Wraiths Novels & Stories

Marcus, the quiet guy from accounting leaned against the door, arms crossed, with a bitter smirk twisting his lips. “McAllen,” he said. “You’ve been looking real happy lately. I see you enjoy your late night with the boss.” My stomach dropped. “What the hell are you talking about?” He stepped closer, I could see the jealousy in his eyes. “ I saw you leaving the private elevator. Looking like a man whose ass has taken some cock. You’re not the first, you know. The Ghost destroys anyone who tries to get close. You’re just the latest toy.” “The Ghost?” I laughed it off, but my voice sounded shaky even to me. “Sounds like some movie legend bullshit.”

“You said you were guardians once—guardians of bonds.” The wraith turned back to her. “We were, before the first severer, before the first scar. We remember the song—we have forgotten how to sing it.” “Then help us,” Aria said, her voice trembling from cold or effort, “help us stop him. He wants to cut every bond—he will make a world of nothing but wounds.” The wraith was silent for a long moment while the other wraiths gathered around, a silent, frozen jury. “We do not fight for flesh—we are not soldiers, we are a memory of what was lost.”

“wraith and revenant. they’re what, six weeks old? and already the healers say they’re shifting in their sleep. tiny furballs with gold eyes and violet ones, growling at shadows.” Rhea drained her tankard, set it down with a clunk. “i held wraith last night during the watch. she latched on that rag doll like it was a throat. little demon’s got her mother’s fire.” Kaelin leaned forward, elbows on knees, voice dropping. “and revenant? he quiets when you hum the old ironfang dirge. like he knows his father’s voice in it somewhere.” Serna swallowed hard, the lump in her throat tasting like ash. “they’re the only reason we’re still here, you know that? every time i swing this hammer, i see their

It was shadowborn. More figures emerged from the darkness. One. Two. Dozens. Hundreds and soon thousands of Wraithborn rose from the ashes. Their flesh that flickered in and out of existence and smoke entangled with bone. Every stride they took bent in ways that no human should, like shattered marionettes. I braced myself for the attack, but it never came. Instead, one after the other, heads were bowed until multiple dark skulls curled against the ground, and somehow, I found it more horrifying than violence. Nothing could have prepared me for what came next.

"Yes. Yes I very much do expect you to sleep on the floor." If the ball was in her court, Niva would've vehemently refused. But he was the one with the knowledge she needed. "Fine, take the bed, I don't care. Just tell me more about what this thing is and how we can stop it." "Not what. Who?." Her lip parted slightly and he furthered in explanation. "Wraiths are paranormal entities, but before the time of transition into death they were living people. Fueled by nothing but vengeance." He smacked his lips amusingly.

All around us, wolves screamed and howled. Nyra’s pack held their ground, but barely. They moved in their groups, coordinated like teeth in a biting jaw. They took down a Wraith, then moved to the next. But the Wraiths were built for death, their hide unnaturally thick, their bloodthirst too much. Two wolves got crushed under a single stomp just behind me. One was flung into a tree so hard the bark cracked with him. Another unit circled a Wraith whose leading leg was ripped off by Nyra.

“It’s not just the world crumbling. It’s... waking up.” From above, the clouds churned unnaturally fast, spiraling around a point directly above the Watcher’s Citadel, the place they'd sworn never to return to. And yet here they were, drawn like threads back to the center of the curse. A shriek cut the air, not human, not animal, something worse. Cael looked toward the ridge. “They’re coming through,” he muttered. “Already.” The first of the wraithkind spilled through the fracture: spindly creatures, taller than men but thinner than skeletons, their translucent skin barely concealing the black fire underneath. Their mouths were always open, but the sound came from inside them, as if the scre

she whispers, her form crumbling, her starlight fading, her body ash. The wraith’s final claw slashes Renn, his relics shattering, his scar bleeding shadow, his body still, his hymn gone. Cassia’s cry pierces the air, her fire flaring, her blade striking the wraith’s remnants, her eyes glistening. Kalia’s orb pulses, its light flooding the altar, sealing the rift, the Veil’s hymn surging, its threads weaving anew. The wraith shatters, its essence dissolving, the abyss stilling, the Veil’s starlight faint but enduring.

Their eyes shone dimly, hunger-filled but devoid of humanity. With a shaky voice, Lyra muttered, "Wraiths." "Ghosts?" Zara gripped her blade tighter. "What's up with them?" "They consume life force," Lyra said quickly. "If they approach too closely, they will exhaust us." Zara mumbled, "Well, that's encouraging." "Elara, do you have a plan?" Elara remained silent. She already had her daggers in her hands and was fully focused on the animals who were approaching. "Remain away from them. Refrain from letting them touch you.

“I’ve waited a long time to meet you in the flesh.” Lira blocked my path, her jaw clenched, shoulders rigid. “You’re not supposed to be alive,” she said. Wraith tilted his head. “Neither are you. But here we are. Like a family reunion... except one of us brought the matches.” The others behind him didn’t speak. They stood in a loose arc, some twitching, some humming softly, all of them watching me like wolves waiting for the weakest step. I could smell the decay on them. Something about their minds had snapped and been stitched back together wrong.