Withering Glare Novels & Stories

3rd Person's POV The white wolf stood at the heart of the battlefield, her fur blazing with a brilliance so fierce it rivaled the sun itself. Light spilled from her form in waves, devouring shadow, forcing the world to avert its gaze. Where that radiance touched the lesser abominations Zade had created, they did not merely fall—they unraveled, bursting into nothingness as though they had never existed at all.

He held his phone and watched the video all night long. The next morning, when he looked in the mirror, he saw a man who looked like a vagrant—unshaven, haggard, and lifeless. He stared at his own reflection and muttered bitterly, "You deserve this." … On the day of my wedding, all my college classmates showed up, including Tristan. At first, I was worried he would cause trouble again. I didn't want to be disturbed by him anymore. Even with my good temper, I couldn't stand being constantly tangled up in his drama.

But the Lycans were deaf to his words, their hearts consumed by the darkness that dwelled within. And just as hope seemed lost, a miracle occurred. A single ray of sunlight broke through the thick canopy of the forest, casting its golden glow upon the battlefield. The Lycans recoiled, their bodies wracked with pain as the sunlight burned their skin. They howled in agony, their monstrous forms shrinking back into the shadows from whence they came.

Razor-sharp teeth gleamed like daggers in the dim light, and its eyes burned with an eerie glow like embers burning in a forgotten fireplace. A wolf. "Help me!" I screamed, my voice amplified by the terror that gripped me. "Please! Anyone!" I watched, paralyzed by fear, as the wolf stalked closer, its hot breath washing over her like a wave of fear. Its drool dripped, landing with a sickening plop on the dirt beside me. My heart pounded as I clung to the crumbling edge, desperately searching for any sign of rescue. But instead of a helping hand, I heard Elena's chilling laughter once more, bouncing off the silent trees like a cruel taunt. With a surge of defiance, I forced myself to look up.

His jaw is iron. “Thorne was the artist who wanted to harvest you slowly and lovingly. The grey ones were the soldiers sent to wear you down. This is the Director’s verdict made into flesh and white plate. When the White-Glow comes for a thing, it means the Director has decided that thing is no longer worth keeping intact. He is not collecting you anymore. He has written you off the balance sheet, and he has sent the instrument that finishes write-downs.” His eyes find mine in the rising white glare.

I turned my head away and refused to look at her. I let go of ten years of love in a single day. Marriages built on benefit never lasted. Jaime stared at me with confusion. “What are you angry about? You agreed to the race yourself, and you were the one who fell off the cliff. I even gave you the drugs, and you’re still making a fuss.” A faint, sarcastic smile tugged at my lips. “Isn’t it possible that Derek drove me off the cliff? Oh right, you trust Derek more than me.”

The dying roars from both the struggling merchants who were caught off guard by the war resonated like a haunter lullaby. Using her enhanced vision, Soleyah saw the crying pups now tarnished with cruelty and dyed with crimson ink as they loitered around the crumbling mobile stores while they searched for their parents. Looking up, she saw the phantoms clashing against the newly arrived griffins—the phantoms wreaking havoc along their way as their slimy-looking yellowish skin glistened under the rising sun while their long swirling tongues dripped with the werewolves’ blood.

The light faded slowly. It did not vanish all at once, the way a candle is extinguished or a fire dies. Instead, it receded like a tide, pulling back from the edges of the world, retreating into the barrier where it belonged. The golden glow that had blinded everyone, that had forced wolves and vampires and hybrids to shield their eyes, softened into something gentle, something warm, something that felt like a embrace.

I stepped back in fear as I noticed the rage his now red eyes held. I gulped hard in panic as he looked terrifying, never have I ever been subjected to such an intense and nerve-cracking glare. I felt like my whole body was drained of blood and my legs were rooted to the spot. His cold lethal glare reflected rage, his jaw clenched, his expression dark and intimidating. Finding his gaze unnerving I quickly lowered my gaze. His glare is unbearable if only this ground could open up and swallow me whole; otherwise, I'm sure I will faint at any minute.

The light tore through the forest like a living thing, pure and blinding. The corrupted wolves recoiled, their snarls warping into strangled cries as the glow seared across their twisted fur. The mist burned away in its wake, revealing their bodies convulsing, their blackened veins writhing under the force of it.