A Broken Blade Book 2 Novels & Stories

My vision blurred black at the edges. Power cracked the ground under my feet. “Kael,” she whispered, “breathe.” “I can’t.” My voice shook. “If I let go” “You break the world.” “Yes.” “And if you hold too tight,” she whispered, “you break yourself.” I laughed. Broken. “I am already breaking.” Then A flash of silver. A blade. Selene moved like moonlight and death. Too fast.

And through it, she saw the anomaly: herself, wielding the Blade, challenging the system. A deep, resonant voice filled the void. “The broken thread seeks to undo what is perfect. The anomaly must be corrected.” Seraphine’s heart pounded. “And I will not be corrected,” she said, voice steady. “Not by you, not by fate, not by anyone.” The Blade flared brightly, responding to her defiance, sending waves of silver light across the dark expanse. The Architect recoiled slightly, sensing the power of the anomaly, the bond, the Blade.

If I break, everything I just won will splinter. Nova rides pressed against my back, Isla cradled between us, her tiny head buried in her mother’s chest. I feel every tremor in them like it’s my own heartbeat. Blade is on my flank, silent as ever, but his eyes never leave the shadows we pass. He knows it too. We left Rafe breathing. That was mercy—or weakness—and mercy always has a cost.

Into the blade. Light flooded the black metal, filling the carved symbols. They glowed – wrong at first, resisting – then cracked. A sharp, splintering sound split the air. Mira's eyes widened. "No – " I tightened my grip. Pushed. The gold burned brighter – hotter than anything I'd felt before. The blade fractured. Lines spreading like spiderwebs across its surface – then it shattered. Shards exploded outward. One sliced across my arm. Another caught Mira's cheek.

I shouted. I stepped out from behind Rowan. The obsidian blade in my hand felt different now. It wasn't just a heavy piece of stone. It was light, almost weightless, and it thrummed with the soft, white light of the girl I had seen in the warehouse. It was the **Blade of the Unsaid**. Every word I had swallowed, every dream I had put aside for the sake of survival, every "I love you" that had been lost in the roar of battle—it was all there, feeding the light. Vane pivoted, his liquid form spinning like a drill. He ignored Rowan and came for me. He was fast—too fast for a human to track. He was a blur of silver and shadow.

Grey's blasting tone was killing as he pushed his guard to the side. With an apologetic look, he sprinted out of the room, returned almost immediately and handed over the knife to Grey. My eyes didn't even see the knife twice and the next thing I felt was a hot slice on my skin. My wrist. And immediately, gore began to ooze out. The last thing I could remember was, I faded out. I died! THE END BOOK TWO COMING SOON… Thanks to you all so much for reading this far; I'll update you once book two is ready. Mmmuah!!!

A storm. One life. Infinite echoes. All of them leading here. The blade in my hand pulsed with heat. I raised it -high above the thread. Behind me, I heard Dorian whisper my name like a prayer. And I chose. And cut it with the blade. The thread screamed as it broke. The rift shattered open. And the world… Began to change.

Lily turned to the lake, staring at the hovering blade. “Can I touch it?” Selene hesitated. “Only if you’re ready.” Lily reached forward, her hand trembling. The blade dipped into her palm. A searing pain struck her chest like lightning. Visions of wolves kneeling, of fire raining from the sky, of Callum holding her hand as kingdoms crumbled, exploded behind her eyes. And then… of King Alistair standing before a grave, a crown broken at his feet. She screamed, falling to her knees, the blade pulsing in her grasp.

Blade called and when I felt his hand on my arm, I yanked it away, forcing my book to fall on the grass. “Look at what you’ve done!” I snapped. “I– I’m sorry.” He bent down and picked the book up, wiping the sticks, bugs, and dirt with his bare hands. “Here you go.” I grabbed the book from him. Glaring into his eyes, I snapped, “what is it with you? Why are you following me?” “I’m not following you. I just need to talk to you.” “What is it?” I asked, annoyed at first, then sighed, asking in a softer tone, “What do you want?”

I won't even let a whimper out of my mouth. Once he realizes I'm not going to scream, he loses whatever sanity he had left. As I look down all I can see is blood and more blood. It's pouring out of my side and soaking the mattress under me. My pajamas are now dark red and the only thing coming through my sense is the strong scent of metal from my blood. It's almost overwhelming. "I know a more effective way to make you scream." Lust has resurfaced in his eyes followed by an evil glint. He starts cutting my clothes off using the same dagger that cut up my body.