All Chapters of Broken by One, Desired by All : Chapter 321 - Chapter 330

Zane's Point Of ViewThe iron taste hit me first… thick, hot, choking my throat completely. I couldn't manage even a clean scream. My head slammed back against the stone floor, teeth clicking together so hard I felt one of my molars split at the root. Pain exploded through my jaw. I twisted my neck, coughing violently, spraying dark crimson blood straight onto the sleeve of the Sigen's black cloak. The man didn't care. He didn't even glance down at the stain spreading across the fabric. He just stood over me, his scarred mouth twisting into that slow, hideous smirk as he gripped the jagged silver hilt with both hands. The pressure of his presence alone felt suffocating, like the air itself had turned hostile. My lungs burned with each shallow breath. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice sounding like dry leaves scraping across a tombstone. Each word dripped with perverse satisfaction that made my skin crawl. "Still trying to breathe. Still trying to hold onto that little spark insi

The vast chamber lacked walls in any conventional sense… instead, it possessed edges where darkness simply devoured the stone whole. The only illumination came from massive, jagged fissures splitting the floor, each one humming with an oily green phosphorescence that cast long, sickly shadows upward into the vaulted ceiling.The air reeked of stagnant water and ancient mold, carrying that particular heavy, wet cold that settled deep into the joints and refused to leave. It was the kind of cold that made bones ache with a dull, persistent throb. Suspended directly in the center of this emptiness hung a massive crystalline screen. It bore no resemblance to smooth glass; instead, it resembled a slab of dark obsidian sheared impossibly thin, its surface rippling with dozens of tiny, pulsing green embers. Each ember tracked the life-force of a Sigen asset scattered across the territories… a living map of their dark network, a testament to their reach and power. Without warning, near the

Ronan's Point Of ViewCelia's fingers were losing their strength, twitching faintly against the leather guards on my forearms. Her skin felt entirely too cold, her breath coming in tiny, pathetic hitches that rattled against my palm. I didn't let go. I didn't even shift my weight. My eyes locked onto the small, dark blue vein pulsing wildly near her collarbone, my mind consumed by the dull, freezing ache rotting at the center of my chest.Part of me registered how fragile she felt in my grip… how easily I could end this right now, but that thought brought no satisfaction, only a hollow emptiness. ‘Zane,’ I thought, the name a jagged piece of flint scraping against my ribs. ‘Where the hell are you?’ The question echoed through my mind, unanswered, mocking me with its silence. A sudden, sharp hum vibrated through the stone floorboards beneath my boots. The air behind me grew thick, smelling instantly of ozone and burnt copper as a wide, swirling tear of purple and gold light cracked o

Ronan's Point Of View"He hasn't even twitched since Tuesday." My voice sounded flat and dried-out, like old leather left in the sun. I didn't take my eyes off the blue veins in his wrist, tracing their delicate paths beneath skin that had grown too pale. "Not once, Gideon. I've been sitting in this exact chair for seven days. If he was just tired, he'd have kicked the blankets off by now. He hates being tucked in. Says it makes him feel like a child." The silence that followed felt heavy, oppressive, pressing down on my shoulders like a physical weight. I counted his heartbeats… slow, steady, but somehow hollow, as if each pulse carried less life than the one before. The rhythm should have comforted me. Instead, it terrified me. Gideon sighed, the sound of his heavy wool robes shifting against the stone hearth the only other noise in the room. He was adjusting the wick on an oil lamp, his old fingers clumsy with age and exhaustion. The lamplight cast dancing shadows across Zane's s

Ronan's Point Of View"She thought she was going to be his bride!" Lady Vane wailed, her trembling fingers clutching desperately at the hem of her husband's dusty velvet coat, the fabric bunching beneath her white knuckles. "Ever since they were children, King Malakai! She kept the portraits in her room, arranged them on her dressing table like a shrine. She preserved the dried flowers from the spring festival in glass cases. She truly believed... she thought she was going to be Prince Ronan's bride! The girl was heartbroken when she learned the truth! Please, you must understand a young girl's heart… how fragile it can be, how it makes them mad, makes them do things they would never otherwise consider…" "A young girl's heart?" I muttered, the words tasting like copper on my tongue, bitter and metallic. My jaw clenched so hard I could feel the ache spreading up into my temples. "She tried to put my mate in the ground, Lady Vane." "She was desperate, Ronan!" Her mother cried, turnin