Wretched Of The Earth Audiobook Novels & Stories

It sank into the center of the swarm, its body expanding, tentacles of shadow erupting from its ribcage to lash out at the eyes looking up from the mud. "They’re herding them back to the source," the man explained, watching the carnage with the detached interest of a gardener weeding a bed. "You’ve been living on a scar, farmer. The ground here isn't soil. It’s a scab. And it’s been itching for a long time." I tried to turn, to run toward the house, but my boots were fused to the earth. The ground was softening, turning into a hungry, gray sludge that crawled up my shins.

packs sent their trash to die. I tried to stand, but my legs gave out instantly, my knees buckling into the mud. I began to crawl, dragging my broken body toward the shelter of a massive, hollowed-out cedar tree. My body was failing. The rejection had stripped my spirit, and the crash had broken my frame. “You are not failing,” the voice echoed again. It was closer now, vibrating in the very center of my skull. “You are shedding.” I felt a strange sensation in my bones. It felt like they were vibrating, turning into something denser, stronger. The wound on my shoulder and the place where the branding iron had nearly touched, began to itch with an intense, freezing heat.

It howled through the woods, shook the branches, turned the air to smoke. And the earth answered. It vibrated beneath her, groaned deep like it had lungs, like it had been waiting. Then came the whispers. They didn’t come from above. They came from below. Beneath her hands, voices spilled from the soil like breath after drowning. One: “Daughter of ash.” Another: “Alpha by blood, cursed by moon.” Another: “You are the howl we buried for this day.” Then the wind came, hard and cold, and it moved the dirt for her.

“Less volatile. Meant to preserve balance.” Rufus read the next lines aloud, voice unsteady. Earth desired Air's power so much that they committed something unholy. Consumed their flesh. Thought they could claim their powers. Jax’s stomach tightened. “Cannibals?” “Earth Wolves,” Lumden corrected. “They became the cursed ones. They devoured Air and stole its gifts.”’’ “And where did the hunters come into this?”

And the shadows answered back. I wanted to believe the worst was over, that the curse had burned itself out of my bones with the last scream I released in that sacred flame. But as I pressed my ear to the ground and felt the hum of something ancient stirring, I knew I was wrong. The earth pulsed. Not like before—this was deeper. Feral. Restless. A presence crawled beneath the crust, like a serpent coiled in waiting. I could feel it. And worse, I could taste it. Bitter and cold like ashes after rain.

Then it moved. The sound of rocks grinding together filled the air. A shifting shape appeared in the darkness – too many legs, too many teeth, and far too many eyes, each snapping open one by one. “Earth Wyrm,” Lilith gasped, her silver eyes wide with fear. “They're supposed to be extinct.” “Yeah, well,” Marcus muttered. “So are a lot of things.” The Wyrm's gaze locked onto them, all twenty eyes glowing a sickly green like dying moons. It opened its mouth – a dark cave filled with rows of teeth – and spoke with the voice made of earthquakes.

A noxious smell of burned ash clung to the air. It was not yet finished. The earth in front of them ripped apart, the ground itself shuddering in revolt. There was a sound in the air, a low and foreboding rumble, and one that appeared to emanate from some deep part of the ground. Emereah's heart pounded. "What's this?" she exclaimed. The ground under her foot shifted, trembled, and before she could step back, the ground burst out. From the darkest depths of the world, something started to push its way out. Twisted and deformed, like roots, like veins, as if the earth itself had become hostile to them. The pressure of the eruption pushed Emereah back, wind forced from her lungs.

When I looked into my hands, she was gone. In her place was a glowing seedling, rooted in the ground beside me. “You have honored your pain. You have not abandoned the child you were. You embraced her. You made her feel loved. No matter what mistake you make in the future, Never hate yourself. Instead learn from your past.” Then the sky darkened, the air thickened and the ground shook violently as something massive crawled from the side of the mountain. It was the earth wolf. But this time, he was no longer a majestic wolf. He had become something monstrous. A beast of stone and root and bone, with eyes like molten lava and a roar that cracked the sky. Each step he took shattered the ground.

His touch was warm but his hand shook. Another tremor hit. This one was so powerful that Lyra felt it in her bones. A deep groaning sound came from the east, like the world itself was screaming. Then, with a deafening crack, the ground split open. A jagged black tear ripped through the earth, wide enough for a wagon to fall through. Thick darkness poured from it. Lyra’s breath caught. From the tear, wolves shaped from smoke began to crawl out.

“Wrong mouth.” The earth split. --- POV: Araya The valley lurched. Chasms opened. Wolves leapt or dragged each other from the edges. The old Moon Road folded and sank. From the rift, fungus rose slick, white, eager. “Even if you burn me,” Erik gloated, “something will grow. If it feeds on grief good. I prefer honest crops.” I drove Hollowflame into the fault. Fungus hissed and curled. “No aftermath garden for you,” Nyxara purred.