Broken Book Galatea Novels & Stories

The longer you sulk, the sooner you’re caught. I cracked the first book open. Ancient ink, brittle parchment, faded sketches of sigils and family trees. Everything looked important. Aurelia would skin me alive if I brought the wrong scraps. I leaned close, torchlight spilling faint gold across the page. One phrase caught my eye, “The Blessing of the Broken Line.” My brows furrowed. I tore it carefully, folding it into my pocket. Another page, another sigil. Then another. I worked slow, patient, but every sound echoed like thunder, the scrape of parchment, the soft tear of paper fibers. My heart raced faster each time.

Elone's POV The sound of shattering crystal rang through the hall like a gunshot. As the vessel disintegrated, the iron-clad shell I'd spent all night reinforcing finally crumbled. I was exposed. Raw. My phone buzzed in my pocket. Once. Twice. Three times. But the roar of the crowd was too loud, and my focus was pinned entirely on the glass of laurel wine in my hand. I raised it to my lips and drained it in one go.

They hit the ground in a tangle of fur and fury. The fight was brief and brutal. Garrett was skilled, but he was already wounded and facing a fresh, furious Alpha protecting his mate. Within seconds, it was over. Garrett lay still, his neck broken, his eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. The hall was silent except for heavy breathing. "It's done," Kade said quietly, looking at the body of his former friend. "Elena can finally rest." Aria moved to Dante's side as he shifted back. "Are you hurt?"

I said quickly as he gestured that we take a walk. “Of course you are,” he replied gently. “You’re very competent. Cade, my brother, really has excellent taste.” We walked slowly between the portraits. The silence stretched awkwardly as my gaze caught on a restored figurine behind the glass. The repaired crack was faintly visible beneath it. Once broken and carefully mended, it was never quite the same. “I heard about the… incident,” he said finally. “At the gala,” he added. I stiffened. “Yes.”

Allistair whispered, teeth gritted as he leaned closer to his mate. Lucifer's eyes scanned, unmoving, across the horizon. "Let the world watch. Let Heaven feel it." High above, the citadel of Heaven shuddered. Luna's silvery robes designed with crimson roses fluttered as if caught in a storm she could not command. The marble floors cracked beneath her feet. Pillars groaned, echoing the violence erupting below. “They’ve broken the Gate,” she spat, eyes narrowing like sharpened stars. “Impossible… he cannot have…”

Neah's POV The door slammed behind me with a force that echoed through my veins, but it wasn't enough. My heart pounded like a war drum, betrayal scorching every inch of my soul. How could he? Damon, my mate, the one the Moon Goddess had bound me to, tangled up with her—Galilea, of all people. Her naked body sprawled on his desk like some offering to the gods, and him, half-undressed, ready to plunge into that forbidden heat. The image burned into my mind, a searing brand I couldn't escape.

Waterloo Bridge grounded me the next morning. I came home to the heavenly smell of coffee started by my roommate. I passed Gaby a half hour later on my way out the door to class. "You going to the Mallerton exhibition on the tenth?" she asked. "I want to. I'm conserving one of his right now, called Lady Percival. I was hoping to find out a little more about the provenance on her. She's had some heat damage, and it's melted the lacquer over the title of the book she's holding. I really want to know what that book is. Like a secret I need to discover."

A young and anxious usher navigated the crowd while balancing a tray holding three glasses of red wine. Lancelot raised two fingers in a swift gesture. The usher walked toward them willingly, his hands shaking just a bit as he got closer. The usher arrived and started to lower the tray, but Lancelot's hand reacted too swiftly. His fingers brushed the rim of the tray. A loud metallic crash. Then three glasses toppled sharply and splattered. The red wine burst over Vivian It flowed from her head, drenching her dark hair, gliding over her cheeks, and cascading down her collarbone.

With sexual violence and abuse triggers, it is for above 18 and especially for the readers who think that they can handle such a story. Disclaimer No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission of the author. His Broken Princess © A. Gupta 2021.All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events andincidents in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living

I had become a broken vessel, shattered and discarded, just like the windows of my soul. As I stood there, swaying on unsteady feet, I couldn't help but feel like a mere pile of mud, trampled on by the world around me. My spirit was fractured, my hope shattered. But deep down, buried beneath the layers of pain, a flicker of defiance remained. A small voice whispered, "Maybe, just maybe, there's a way to piece myself back together."