Wither Storm Novels & Stories

Eighteen Years Ago The Shadow Pack burned that night; the storm came first, then came the lightning. It split the sky in two; thunder shook the very foundation of the pack, like the growl of a vengeful god. The rain lashed out, falling heavily, but it didn't quench the fire swallowing the packhouse whole. The flames devoured the Alpha's mansion and everything that stood in their way. Hidden in the hollow oak tree is a child with jet-black hair clutching a leather-bound book to her chest.

But I also knew that he'd never lay a hand on me. So I stepped forward and took the blame. "I did. So what? She had it coming." Yvette's eyes brimmed with tears as she leaned into Elton's arms, her expression full of wounded pride. She cried, "You're right! I brought this on myself. I fell for someone I shouldn't have, and now I'm humiliated and called a homewrecker." Elton gently stroked her hair and comforted her, saying softly, "Don't be upset. It hurts me to see you like this."

The night wind blew heavy, the trees swaying as if trying to hold on to their roots their last lifeline to the earth. Each gust roared like an angry spirit, and yet, they stood firm, gripping the soil as thunder cracked across the sky. "Wrecking Ball" played faintly in the background its echo carried by the wind through the thick forest as Riven's car sliced the darkness like a shadow on a mission. The music blended with the storm, a strange melody of heartbreak and violence.

"Storm. Coming. We. Go." Winter nodded quickly, her heart already beginning to pound. She hurried after him towards the gate. The storm broke with a sudden, ferocious violence just as they were re entering the main part of the West Wing. A deafening clap of thunder shook the very foundations of the citadel, and the torches in the corridor flickered wildly, casting dancing, demonic shadows. Rain lashed against the arrow slit windows, driven by a howling wind. Winter cried out, a small, involuntary sound, and stumbled, her hand flying to her mouth. Gareth paused, looking back at her with something that might have been concern in his usually impassive eyes.

“You started it, River… gambling with my life. I can't continue without a child. I don’t care how far I have to go or how many strings I get to pull before I get to fill you up with my seed.” His grip tightened on my wrist, his breathing coming out rugged, face red and pulsing with anger — anger that I didn’t want his shitty proposal? What was going on in this man’s head? “There are other women out there,” my voice softened, my head tilted slightly. “What we had was just a fling. I am not ready to be a mother, Mr. Storm.” “My body craves only you. I don’t want you to be its mother either — I just need the child.” Like a commodity that he could buy with money. “And I am not ready for a baby M

Carol was a titan in the marketplace, and her declaration was like a battle cry against the Porter family. It meant that from then on, no one would dare to ally with the Porters, effectively backing them into a corner. Without another glance at them, Carol took Sienna's hand and linked her other arm with mine, her eyes softening. "The cake's going to melt if we wait any longer. Let's go have some cake," she said. However, just as we were about to move, Jennifer stepped in our way.

I asked. ​“Then I will break the Web,” Winnie said, her voice dropping to a whisper that sent a chill through me. “I will unravel every thread of light in this world before I let them touch the Tree again. They think they know power, but they have never seen a Weaver who has nothing left to lose.” ​Thorne looked at us, his eyes scanning the horizon. “The storm is coming, Winnie. I can smell it in the air. Not a storm of snow, but a storm of salt and silence.”

Another violent explosion. Rain poured down in sheets, extinguishing the fire, but the mansion was still smoking under the storm. Rescue workers and search dogs combed through the debris. They were searching for Ivy's body. Yes, body. After all, no one was surviving that kind of fire and explosion. In the distance, Jason stood in the rain with blood running down his face, ignoring the doctor trying to pull him away. He waited for the verdict. "Over here!" A rescuer’s shout immediately lit up the light in his eyes. He dragged his stiff body and rushed as quickly as he could.

Her steps gradually slowed, growing heavier, as if invisible chains were pulling her down. Then the music shifted. Her voice rose, soft at first. But as she continued, emotion began to seep into every word. **“The storm howls across the sleeping village, wind clawing at fragile wooden doors. Yet inside, a single lamp glows warmly, a quiet home untouched by the rage outside. The kettle hums gently upon the stove, and laughter lingers like a fading song. Who would step into the storm, when the hearth burns bright and kind? Who would leave the comfort of home,

Elyse's First-Person POV The wedding went off exactly as planned. Music swelled through the hall. I walked down the aisle in my custom wedding dress with two flower girls guiding me along. Petals and butterflies danced in the air, their delicate scent clinging to my veil, my shoulders, and my hands. As I neared the center of the stage, I saw Mom through the gap in my veil. She was nestled in Dad's arms, tears slowly streaming down her face.