All Chapters of Fractured: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

SeleneThe visions had stopped screaming at them.That was the unnerving part.They came now like a hand offered gently, palm up—quiet, patient, almost kind. A door left open. A room with no shouting. A promise that didn’t feel like a trap until you noticed the lock on the inside.Selene stood in the nexus with the moon high above and the seal humming faintly underfoot. Ronan was close enough that she could feel the warmth of him even when they weren’t touching. Mirra lingered a few paces away, grounded and watchful, the earth around her calm in the way it got when it had decided to wait something out.The entity’s last offer—escape—kept circling in Selene’s mind, not like a threat but like a soft echo that tried to sound like relief.You can be free.Free meant quiet. Quiet meant peace.Except Selene had learned the hard way that quiet could also mean emptiness. It could mean isolation so complete you started talking to the moon like it was a person, because you had no one else who c

SeleneThe air changed like someone had slammed a door.One moment the clearing still held the exhausted quiet of their last conversation—tension, yes, but survivable. The next, it crackled. Not with the old cloying perfume of whispers and visions, but with something heavier. A pressure that made Selene’s teeth ache and the fine hairs on her arms lift.It wasn’t subtle anymore.It wasn’t feeding from the edges.It was stepping into the center.Selene felt Ronan tense beside her. Mirra’s hand slid instinctively toward the soil, grounding. The bond flared, not in panic, but in alertness—as if their shared self recognized a different kind of threat.Then the pedestal appeared.It did not rise slowly, like a spell coaxed into form. It snapped into existence, a slab of shadow and warped moonlight that looked wrong in the way a bone looks wrong when it breaks through skin. The stone beneath it blackened slightly, as if even the earth didn’t want to touch what had been made.And on top of it

MirraMirra knew the moment the entity shifted its attention to her.Not because the air changed—though it did, faintly, with that rotten-sweet undertone that had become their warning bell—but because the earth inside her went taut. The way a tree goes still when lightning is about to strike.The ground beneath the nexus pulsed once, then again, and the familiar calm of her connection to the land tightened into a warning hum.Then the word appeared in her mind as if someone had carved it there with a knife:Heartwood.Mirra’s breath hitched.Selene noticed instantly. Ronan did too. Their bond wasn’t flaring; it was quiet and alert, like a hand hovering near a blade.“Mirra?” Selene asked softly.Mirra didn’t answer immediately. She couldn’t. The name had ripped open a place in her chest that had always been sacred.“The Heartwood Grove,” she managed, and the words felt like saying a prayer in a room full of strangers.Ronan’s gaze sharpened. “What is it?”Mirra’s throat tightened. “It

RonanHe didn’t want to do it.That was the clearest truth in his mind, brighter than any illusion, louder than any whisper. Ronan did not want to step toward the abyss, to give the entity what it demanded, to prove something to a thing that didn’t deserve proof.But the ground under his feet still felt slick with the aftermath of the last pull, and his lungs still remembered what it felt like to breathe cold water that wasn’t real.He could hear Selene behind him, could feel her presence like a heat against his spine even without turning. Mirra’s steadiness remained, muted but iron-true, a quiet weight at the edge of his awareness.He looked at them both anyway.Selene’s face was pale. Her jaw was set hard, but her eyes were bright with a fear she didn’t try to hide. Mirra’s expression stayed calm, but Ronan knew her well enough now to see the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers flexed as if she needed to keep her hands from shaking.They weren’t begging him not to go.That

RonanRonan had always believed fear was useful.Fear kept sailors from getting careless. Fear kept kings from trusting too easily. Fear made you look twice before you stepped into something you didn’t understand.This fear wasn’t useful.This fear was a weight wrapped around his ribs, pulling him down.He stood at the edge of the threshold the entity had conjured—darkness thick as water, the air around it heavy and wrong. It didn’t look like a trench in the earth anymore. It looked like a tear in space, a vertical wall of deep-sea night waiting to swallow him whole.Beside him, Selene and Mirra didn’t speak. They didn’t need to. He could feel them through the bond: Selene’s silver thread stretched tight with concentration, Mirra’s grounded steadiness braced like bedrock.Their faces were pale with a fear they refused to let become panic. Support held it in place. Support made it bearable.Ronan’s magic tried to surge on instinct, oceanic force wanting to lash out at the wrongness, wa