Wraith Fanart Novels & Stories

He took a step forward— And the ground beneath them trembled. A deafening howl split the air, primal and enraged. Shadows shifted in the ruins below, moving unnaturally fast. Then, from the darkness, they emerged. Wraiths. Not quite werewolf, not quite human—twisted beings caught between forms, their bodies flickering as if reality struggled to contain them. Their eyes burned with unnatural fire, and their snarls carried the weight of the damned. Bram drew his blade. “I hate this place.” Freya’s daggers gleamed as she fell into a ready stance. “We hold our ground.”

The Source had sensed the active Seed in its graveyard. Intrusion detected, a booming, ancient resonance vibrated through the static. The Failed Seeds must be purged. The New Seed must be reclaimed. From the depths of the static, the "Harvesters of the Dead" emerged. They weren't the Centurions we had fought on Earth. They were "Wraiths"—creatures of pure, entropic data designed to scavenge the Liminal Zone. They looked like giant, skeletal hands made of black glass, reaching through the mist to snatch the flickering ghosts of the failed children.

Sebastian smiled, “Lead the way, my love.” When we stepped into the art supplies store, Sebastian gasped, “Wow. There is a lot more room in here than it looks like outside.” I smiled, “He worked hard to get this store looking like this. Then Chloe came and did this ice sculpture and the entire kingdom started wanting to come in and look at it.” I showed the ice sculpture to him, and he smiled, “That one is awesome. A dragon wrapped around a wolf. I do like that a lot.” He turned to me and asked, “Which of your animal spirits is more prominent?” I laughed, “In terms of attitude, it has to be Singarti, my wolf. She’s the very ‘in your face’ type, whereas Willow, my bear, is where I get my magi

Hello again, guys! Like I said in my author's note, this book is a prequel to Wrenched. Underneath this note, I'll attach a little synopsis to it, so we could have an idea of what the book would be about. I would appreciate your reviews and comments like you always do. Please enjoy! WRENCHED: THE OUTSET OF THE STORY. SYNOPSIS Two friends walk the spheres of life together and are bound by common interests and ambition to be successful at a young age. They are like brothers and would do anything for one another.

Everything I had tried to bury, everything the Rift had sensed and stored over the centuries, coalescing into one dark, watchful pulse. A sudden shift in the shadows drew my eyes. The Wraiths appeared, not in swarms this time but individually, tall and thin with translucent bodies that bent the light of the silver veins into fractured specters. Their eyes glowed faintly, observing, judging, waiting. “Do not falter,” Cael whispered. “They feel fear. They feed on hesitation.” I took a step forward, feeling Auren’s hand on my lower back, steadying, urging. Cael’s gaze bore into mine, molten silver, burning away the remnants of doubt. Together, we approached the pedestal.

Raphael and Aidan had no choice left to just follow him but the scene greeted them outside the VIP section made them lose their composure. There in the middle of the dance floor were standing Sage and Jes wearing micro-mini skirts paired with tops that left a little to nothing for imaginations. With their wild hair, they perfectly fit the description of wild women the waiter had described. Raphael, Aidan and Lucas watched them with an open mouth~ Sage was hooting while Jes was scaring guards with the raccoon that she was holding in her hands. The first thing that came into Raphael's mind was that from where in hell she had gotten that thing?

Something hollow. And it smiles like it remembers what I begged for. “No,” I whisper. It answers with my voice. “Lira.” I lunge. The fang in my hand drives forward—not elegant. Just brutal. Just fast. The blade bites into something harder than flesh. Bone. Or the idea of it. The wraith laughs—its mouth opening too wide, teeth splitting into jagged ribbons. It reaches for my throat. The tether shrieks. Kael’s already moving—but I don’t wait. I twist the shard, shove upward. It punches through what might’ve been its jaw, into the space where its eye should be.

They were feared; people dared not even utter their group's title, let alone their names. Crimson mask wearer - Wraith. Silent. Muscular. Athletic. He embodies Wrath, blood, vengeance, and swift judgment. His dual blades do all the talking he needs. Once a soldier who defied orders to protect civilians during a silent purge in the northern isles. Branded a traitor and left for dead, Wraith was found by Diana’s agents on the battlefield, surrounded by the bodies of those he killed in defence of the innocent. His oath was shattered that day, and so he forged a new one: to serve not law, but judgment.

Wraith's expressionless face turned gloomy, sunken and weighted down by something Dionysus could not fully grasp. "I was cast out of the hunters, Sire. Because I am a boy who has been of age today." Wraith's lips quivered. He blinked and stared up at the house ahead before adding, "And Artemis can only accept me until I turned sixteen. I am an immortal temptation to my fellow hunters, even if I deem them sisters, I had to go." Dionysus can't find it in himself to speak about his sister's ways. He had never gotten along with anyone except his older brother, Hephaestus.

Then the attack came. --- They struck from the cliffs—beasts of shadow and flame, with molten eyes and fangs like obsidian. Wraithborn. But not like those they’d faced before. These were older. Stronger. Twisted by something ancient. The first leapt for Lena. Tarek intercepted it mid-air, slamming his blade into its throat. Two more descended toward Aria and Kael. Aria spun, slicing one clean through, the Sovereign blade searing its form into ashes.