White Noise Novel Novels & Stories

She was my mother in every sense of the word, and I loved her deeply. But now Monica was gone, and the farm, once a place of love and laughter, had become a prison of grief. I couldn't escape the memories of her that were at every corner of the house. To make matters worse, I had started hearing strange whispers, voices that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. They were faint, but persistent. Sometimes they sounded like my mother, sometimes like strangers. It was enough to make me question my sanity.

The atmosphere is overwhelming for me, but i try to dress up and not show how bad i'm feeling. After taking shots at the bar, I start to feel lightheaded and nauseous. Ruth dismisses my discomfort as the excitement of being out and feeling free. Sarah suggests going to dance, but I opt to go to the restroom instead. In the restroom, I become sick and vomit into the sink. As I try to compose myself, I notice a handsome man in the mirror. It turns out me accidentally entered the men's restroom. The man acknowledges this and I engages in conversation. He's attractive, but i wary of his intentions.

Picking the book from the couch I mumbled, “great! a novel.” I pray this book be exhilarating. I ambled back to my bed and planted my ass on the rough blue Chelsea FC bedsheet. I casted my eyes on the front cover, and read: “The Wolf Boy” “Damien Ace” nodding my head. I attempted to open the front cover, but a knock on the door interrupted me. I ignored the knock and went ahead, opening the front cover... I tried to read, but it was impossible. The knock on the door became persistent. It was like my head was being invaded by a Titanic migraine which would stop at nothing unless my head had been blown to smithereens. It was unbearably loud in my ears that it was hard to concentrate on what I

‘Nope’ I yelled back, my eyes not leaving the sight of books, I walked past but then stopped, something grazed from my fingers, I stepped back and tried to find what it was, it felt like something pricked on my finger. ‘I felt too, something very strong touched me’ Irene mumbled, my eyes anxiously looking for it again when they locked at one book. ‘Legacy of White Wolf’ I quietly murmured those words and water gathered in my eyes as if something stung into it. The emotions right now were foreign, I was unable to understand them, but they were overwhelming. My hand was tracing the title.

Female voices weaving through each other until I couldn't tell where one ended and the next began. I gripped my pillow. No. They weren't real. Don't answer them. Don't argue with them. Pretend they aren't there. I tried. God, I tried. The white noise machine of ocean waves and rain sounds hummed from the corner. None of it worked. The voices kept slipping through. Kill her. I squeezed my eyes shut. No. She'll destroy everything. No. The pressure built behind my eyes. The harder I ignored them, the louder they became.

If not for the destruction around us, I would have thought I imagined it. The battlefield was eerily silent, save for the wind whispering through the ruins. But as I lowered my gaze, something worse happened. The black blood on my arms began to spread. A sickening wrongness seeped into my skin, moving like poison through my veins. My limbs weakened, my vision blurred, and before I could scream— Everything went dark. I woke up to an endless expanse of snow.

Silence answered. The wine glasses from breakfast sat rinsed by the sink. Nova's travel mug was half-full on the coffee table beside the book she'd been thumbing through, a battered poetry collection with dog-eared pages and wildflower petals marking her place. Her phone still blinked softly on the charger. Damian turned slowly, heart thudding harder now, not from fear, but something more primal. Wrong.

There was little that could take down a full-grown wolf shifter. “Hey, look what I found lurking in the …” Cryus’ introduction was muted as my head spun. The tiny molecules that once filled the air were replaced with waves of light and color that swirled and pulsed through the bar. I stumbled as a mean case of vertigo pulsed through my head. “Ghost…Ghost…” My Alpha’s calls were lost in the chaos. Every nerve fired at will, taking away the control reverently. My wolf peeked through my eyes, looking for her. He knew before I did.

Alpha Titus stood at the entrance, a bouquet of moonflowers clutched in his hand, dewdrops still clinging to the petals. Those amber irises swept past the crowded hall and landed directly on me, not sparing Damian a single glance, as if his younger brother didn't exist. Alpha Titus, gone for three years, had just appeared without warning. Everyone had heard the rumors—brutal, cold-blooded, a wolf to be feared. But the man standing in the firelight tonight looked almost... gentle.

The silence inside the master suite of the Volkov estate was absolute, broken only by the rhythmic, delicate rise and fall of the breath against his chest. Outside, a heavy summer rain beat a steady, muted rhythm against the reinforced glass windows, blurring the lights of the sprawling estate into distant, watery smudges. But inside the dark bedroom, the world had shrunk down to the heavy mattress, the scent of expensive sandalwood mixed with sweet vanilla, and the fragile girl curled securely against his side.