Invisible Storm Novels & Stories

I close my eyes, focusing on her fingers soothingly stroking my hair and the comforting rhythm of her heartbeat. Raven Anita had fallen asleep on my chest as light rain pitter pattered against the windows. The trauma of that night still haunts her. Storms, like the one that just passed triggers PTSD attacks. I’m the only one who can calm her down. She’s been to an odd number of therapists but none of which can help her.

A horrible growling sound echoed around the forest. Rogues.

She could feel the worms wriggling in her heart, the squirming of the worms made her stomach queasy. However, her attention was suddenly diverted as a gust of cold wind swept across her face, and blew her long hair. The gust of wind carried voices whispering in her ear, not the whispers of the surrounding leaves, but other whispers that she could understand. Leah looked left and right, it seemed that no one felt the gust of wind and whispers except for her. Even Mia and Grace who were standing so close to her didn't feel what she felt. The whisper called her name, she was sure. Not the sound of the wind, or the voices in her head, someone called her name

He looked like a Spirit wolf. The Gamma launched at him, but Damien successfully dodged. The Gamma attacked again, and Damien dodged. They were at it for a while with Damien dodging every attack. It was clear Alex didn't want to hurt him. Getting frustrated he turned to mist to attack, but Damien did something no spirit wolf had ever done before. He stood on his hind legs, grabbed the head of the mist and pinned it down. A golden light began to emit from him. The rest of the pack backed away, afraid of being touched by the light. The Gamma became whole again under Damien's paws, and Alex spoke in what seemed like a roar.

Once I was suited up and ready to hit the competition floor, security blocked my path. Alfred was there, looming beside them. His eyes were stormy as he pointed at me, his voice booming, "That's the guy who crashed the event. Kick him out now!" The guard eyed me with a stern look. "Sir, your invitation, please." I raised an eyebrow and replied, "I'm the one running the show here. No invite needed." The words had barely left my lips when Alfred's mocking laughter cut through the air. "This event is the brainchild of Ms. Smith and her husband. Nelson, are you going to stand there and tell me you're Ms. Smith's husband? What's the hold-up? Get this liar out of here!"

The moment the silver touches my thread, the mate-bond inside my soul doesn't just vibrate; it shatters with the concussive force of an exploding mountain. Miles away, Clyde registers my distress, and his reaction is instantaneous and total. The sky above the lower valley doesn't just turn dark; it is violently rewritten. A literal, localized thunderstorm of liquid black shadow-energy rolls over the basalt ridges, a terrifying vacuum that drops the temperature in the clearing into a freezing winter chill within a fraction of a second. The wind howls, a primitive, earth-shaking roar echoing down from the peaks that doesn't belong to a man, but to the Apex Predator of the South.

"Remi, you'd curse our own child for the sake of Ella's baby? "You have no idea what kind of person she is! She threw her baby from a height to frame me. What's throwing a medal compared to that?" "Enough! Shut up!" Remi raised his hand and slapped her hard across the face. The blow caught her off guard. She lost her balance and fell into the pond. The moment her body hit the water, the moment the water rose over her ears and nose, Ariel thought she was going to die. Remi didn't move. His voice was cold and hard. "Stop pretending, Ariel. You can swim. Since you threw the medal in, you can dive down and get it."

She closed her eyes and whispered, “Please, not tonight.” The house held its breath. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled—a low, steady sound that rumbled across the horizon. And in that moment, Elena knew: the storm wasn’t coming. It was already here. --- The marina slept under a cold moon. The water was black and restless, lapping softly against the docked boats as if whispering secrets too dangerous to speak aloud. The smell of salt and gasoline hung in the air, sharp and metallic.

**Kelly Thompson's POV** The storm isn't a storm-it's a *mouth*. A vast, yawning chasm splits the horizon, its edges lined with jagged teeth of obsidian and starlight. The air hums with a subsonic growl, the ground trembling as if the earth itself is being digested. Eden staggers, his scars now blackened fissures leaking a viscous, iridescent fluid that hisses where it strikes the soil. The melody in him is no longer a hum-it's a *drone*, a dirge that makes my teeth ache.

In one fast motion, I spun him around and slammed him against the wall this time, my forearm pressing hard against his throat. I grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head. His chest rose and fell in ragged bursts. “Let go,” he growled, glaring at me. “Make me.” “You’re such a fucking bastard.” “And you,” I leaned in, my lips grazing the line of his jaw, “are just a whiny little bitch.” “Fuck you, Storm.” I smirked.“You wish.” We stood locked in place. Ice grey eyes clashing with stormy blue. Ragged breaths and sweaty palms. The air between us pulsed with heat and something far more dangerous.