Born Of A Broken Man Rage Against The Machine Novels & Stories

Helplessness, fear, insecurity. "I will not divorce her and nobody can make me," Nick ground his teeth as his glare turned sterner. He was tired of hearing this word. So much that it felt like acid to his ears now. He fucking hated this word with all his rotten soul. "We will see how long," with a casual flick of Killian's finger, a man came forward with a flaming rod. Nick's gaze drifted to the red flame glowing in almost dark room. Nick didn't give Killian the satisfaction of seeing fear on his face as he looked at the burning end of rod through his scattered hair. In fact, Nik felt the urge to chuckle and he did. He tipped his head back and chuckled. Blood and bruises covered his face, co

“Tonight we prove them wrong.” Stepping alone into the neon-lit backstreets, Maverick felt the old city’s pulse thrumming against his eardrums. Rain began to fall in quicksilver beads, igniting the pavement with frantic sparks of light. As he wandered, the memory of the council’s passionate proclamations clung to him: songs of revolution, promises of glory, dreams of ancestral dominion. Yet beneath that fervor, his heart stirred with uneasy questions. He had been raised on tales of Delacroix’s triumphs—feasts around marble pyres, blood-red banners unfurled atop moonlit ramparts—but had never witnessed a celebration without the tang of violence. Could true honor be found only in conquest? Or

He moved and whispered a scowl in my ear, "From now on you'll suffer hell." "And From now on I will save you." I whispered back. And finally, he broke, his anger couldn't stand against my persistence, he yelled in a Broken voice, "I never wanted to be saved! Leave me! I DON'T WANT ANY KIND OF LOVE!!" He left me in his studies. I fell on the ground and began to cry. Not at myself but at his misery. How can a person be so cruel and detestable yet so broken and ravaged at the same time. Deluged in despair, he couldn't hide the pain of his voice but can show the silver fury of his action. He had blended emotions of heartbreak and rage in him. He was broken but fierce.

But every attempt resulted in nothing. The frustration began to boil. It wasn't just about the water; it was the years of being told I was nothing. It was the memory of Killian’s sneer. It was the way my mother had looked at me as if I were a broken toy. "I can't do it!" I snapped, ripping my hand away from Malachi’s. I turned away, my chest heaving, my eyes stinging with tears of pure rage. "Maybe they were right. Maybe I'm just a broken Omega with a fancy birthmark. There’s nothing in me but ash, Malachi!"

Another piece trembled. I took a step forward, raising my hands just slightly. The noise ebbed. The silence that followed was full, not empty, but waiting. I let my voice carry. “I wasn’t born for this,” I said plainly. “I wasn’t raised to rule. I wasn’t groomed in courts or chosen by councils. I was hunted. Broken. Burned. Hated for my eyes." A ripple of murmurs followed, soft and knowing. “I was told I was too loud, too angry, too soft, too strange. But it was in being all those things that I became strong. And it was in being one of you that I found what strength really means.”

Please, not like this. “Nothing’ll happen if I have a taste,” he sneered. “You’re already broken. I doubt your mate would take you back.” Something inside me snapped. Broken? No. I wasn’t broken—I was cracked open, bleeding, furious. And fury meant I was still alive. My heart pounded as my hands bled, cutting faster, faster, faster at the ropes. *He doesn’t get to define me. He doesn’t get to touch me. I belong to no one but myself.*

“You don’t get to give up. Not yet. Not ever.” The machine hissed in answer, steady and merciless. And for the first time in a long time, I let myself break, just a fraction, because in this room, there was no armor strong enough to hide behind.

And not when I discovered something else. This wasn't all about grief. This was about rage. Rebel wasn't just broken. She was sharpening herself into an instrument of revenge. And someone would pay.

I was dragged to the rooftop of a tall building. The two men in black tossed me onto the concrete like garbage. Holding a hand to my still-bleeding face, I pleaded, "Morrigan, I didn't mean to compete with you for Mom's love. You've misunderstood. I only came back now because my eyes have just healed." Morrigan smirked and looked me over. I thought for a moment that she believed me. But then she raised her red heel and kicked me hard in the face. "I've misunderstood? Like I'd believe you. You could've come back earlier or later, but you chose this exact moment when Mom was about to take me back into the family. Isn't it clear that you're back to compete with me for her affection?" Morrigan s

"Ella, don't take your anger out on the baby. Please?" Zachary probably thought I'd change my mind, so his face was full of sincerity. The spectators started whispering and pointing at me. "Young people these days are so difficult to please." "Exactly, it's a human life after all." I was suddenly surrounded by judgment, trapped with no way out. "Everyone shut up!" Leave it to Ava to silence the entire crowd with one shout. "Love watching drama, do you? Fine. This man cheated during his marriage, kept a mistress, and had a child with another woman. Tell me, would you stay with a man like that?"