Your Silence Novels & Stories

To me, it was the most beautiful name in the world. I wasn't always mute. I used to speak—until my parents passed away in a car accident when I was three. After that, my voice disappeared. Then, when my grandmother died, I was left utterly alone. But those moments with my family were the happiest of my life. None of this mattered, though. When people harbored prejudice, every word one said was dismissed as an insincere excuse. At school, my textbooks would mysteriously end up in the restroom, and my desk would often be left filthy with unidentified stains.

"If I were her, I'd probably pretend to be mute and stay silent for years too. That voice is enough to make anyone want to gouge their own ears out!" My desk was kicked over, sending all the books scattering across the floor. Alice yanked my hair hard, then she raised her hand and slapped me across the face. "I'm talking to you, Summer! Your mute act is over, and now you're deaf? Can't hear anyone, right?" I shoved her with all my strength. "Let go of me!"

She stood there, mouth hanging open, but no words came out. I climbed into the car with a smile of satisfaction on my face, and drove away.

Silent. Staring at her with those dead eyes. More seconds passed. The air in the room felt wrong. Too thick. Too cold. Carmina took a step backward without meaning to. Then another. Her back hit the door. "Killian," she whispered. Nothing. The silence was worse than shouting. Worse than violence. It was the silence before something terrible happens. Carmina's heart was hammering in her chest. Her hands shaking so badly she could barely hold her cane. "Say something," she said.

The absolute absence of everything, including the concept of absence. "It is a Silence," the Utterance whispered in Jack's mind, and the ancient consciousness's voice carried a terror that Jack had never heard from it. Not even when facing the Devourer. Not even when meeting the Gravedigger. The silence that exists when a song ends. The pause between notes. It has always been there, between every sound the choir makes. We never noticed it because it was small. But the choir grew too loud. It woke the spaces between the music.

A terrifying, impossible thought. No. I whisper the word to the empty room. "No." But the silence doesn't answer. The silence just watches. And waits.

Book 2: The Architecture of Light [The Geometry of Silence] The world did not end with a bang or a whimper; it ended with the most beautiful silence I have ever known. In the old world—the world of the Firm, the Grid, and the endless, artificial ticking of Jinyan’s clockwork heart—silence was a predatory thing. It was the space between heartbeats where a sniper aimed; it was the dead air on a comms line that meant your partner was gone. But here, in our villa perched on the jagged cliffs of the Adriatic, silence is a living, breathing tapestry. It is the sound of the tide pulling at the white pebbles below, the rustle of lemon leaves in the salt-heavy breeze, and, most importantly, the stead

“Yeah. The noise in your life is the market, the boardroom, the gala. But the silence here… it’s the lack of life. You built an escape hatch from the noise, but you didn’t put anything in it.” Igor was silent for a long time. I thought I had pushed too far, but then I felt his arm slowly tighten around me, pulling me closer against his solid frame. “You are terrifyingly perceptive, Killian,” he admitted, his voice barely a breath. “I have always needed silence. But before you… the silence was deafening. It was a vacuum, confirming the profound emptiness I confessed to. Now, the silence is different.” He shifted slightly, leaning his chin against the top of my head. “Now, the silence is Deepe

Back in my office I closed the door behind me and exhaled slowly. I hadn’t spoken a single word to them, but that didn’t mean I was weak. No silence was power. And mine was growing louder every day. Let them smirk. Let them mock. Let them place their hope in Logan's silence. Because either way, I was not done. Not by a long shot.

“Even her silence chooses me. She doesn’t shield you from doubt. She doesn’t defend you from me. That’s because, deep down, she knows I speak the truth you fear.” Luca’s hand shot up, clutching Amara’s wrist as though her touch might vanish. His voice cracked into a broken whisper. “No… no, Amara, please. Tell me he’s wrong. Tell me this silence doesn’t mean you’re slipping away.” Her throat worked violently. A strangled sound almost broke free. But again, nothing. The chapel filled with the storm of Luca’s ragged breathing, Ethan’s steady calm, and Amara’s unbearable quiet. It was then that Luca realized, silence wasn’t neutral anymore. It wasn’t absence. It had become Ethan’s weapon. And A