Broken Mirrors Book Novels & Stories

The last one… was Elara. Mira stepped forward, and the reflection moved with her. “You’re not me,” she said. The Elara-mirror smirked. “No. I’m what’s left of who you tried to bury.” Mira clenched her fists. “I buried her for a reason.” “She’s not gone,” the reflection said. “You absorbed her. You wear her bones.” Suddenly, the mirror cracked—from the inside. Black static spilled out. And Mira woke up screaming. Carl was at her side in seconds. “What is it?”

A long, spindly finger, grey and desiccated, pressed against the glass from the inside of the eighth reflection. I scrambled backward, hitting the wall. The tunnel vanished as I broke the perfect angle of the mirrors. I tore both mirrors off the wall, shattering them against the floor, shards of glass skittering like diamonds across the hardwood. I didn't care about the broken glass; I didn't care about the mess. I just knew that the man had been coming, and he was too close. That was the last time I touched a mirror.

someone whispered. The floor trembled. From the marble beneath them, mirrors began to rise. Dozens. Then hundreds. Tall and slender. Cracked and warped. Some clean as new silver. Others smeared with blood-like streaks. They encircled the chamber like silent judges. Elarion’s gaze darted across their reflections. But something was off. Some mirrors didn’t reflect the room. They showed memories that hadn’t happened yet. Others showed versions of the students—distorted, broken, afraid.

​The Forest of Mirrors was dying. The ink-black fluid spilling from Sarah’s mirror didn’t just coat the obsidian ground; it ate through the reflection of reality itself, turning the majestic, silvered trees into brittle, charcoal husks. The psychic weight of the collapse was suffocating. Every cracked pane of glass shrieked as it disintegrated, releasing the trapped whispers of a thousand stolen moments. ​Sarah stood amidst the ruins, untouched by the decay. She watched Laura and Dave with a gaze that held the clinical detachment of a mapmaker surveying a doomed border.

Hello Lovelies. From here the part two of this book SHATTERED YET STRONG will begin. It is the story of Gabriel and Louis. It will have the characters of book 1, BROKEN BUT BEAUTIFUL continues but they won't be focused much till the middle of the book. Also, this book mentions the triggers of rape, assault and heartbreak. I would suggest if it isn't your cup of tea, you may leave it here. Tabby Chapter 1. Letting the Pain out...

"It could be a way out." We start moving towards the light, our footsteps echoing in the quiet chamber. As we get closer, the light grows brighter, and we can see that it's coming from a small room at the end of the tunnel. We step into the room and find ourselves surrounded by shelves filled with books and strange artifacts. There's a small table in the center of the room, and on it, there’s a small, glowing orb. "What is that?" Damon asks, stepping closer to the table. "No idea," Hank says, studying the orb.

I glared at him. "I need time. Please, don't waste your time coming here? I want---" I didn't finish my line when my head suddenly throbs. My eyes became blurry and my stomach is in pain again. "Are you okay? Lucy, wake up!" The only voice I heard before I lost my consciousness. --- Eloisa POV

People pretended not to see the things that made them uncomfortable. “And you,” Langford said, “will remember who you represent.” As if she had ever been allowed to forget. They passed a gilt-framed mirror. Althea kept her eyes from her reflection, focusing instead on the carved cherubs at the corners. Their marble faces seemed too interested. Don’t look at mirrors in the dark, anak. You don’t know who’s looking back. Umbra’s nails clicked in a steady rhythm beside her. Each step with him grounded her in her body. In her choice, however limited it actually was.

But of course, because of that blasted mirror, she was transported to my realm, had her brain fucked up with the reality that Earth wasn’t the only livable world in existence, and experienced the shittiest welcome my kingdom could offer with my sword and me as the main contributor to it. I cleared my throat and hid those realizations to myself. “What else is there?” I asked. “Hmm?” She gave me a genuinely clueless face. “Was the mirror placed together with a book maybe? Or any other unusual items?” “Uh, nothing. Just the mirror. It was covered in dust if that’s something you’d like to know.” I shifted in my seat, hating that this was a dead end. “So I would assume it is just one.” “I think s

“There are others. Old ones. The place was full of mirrors when we found it. We smashed some.” Elsie’s gaze sharpened. “Some?” “Not all.” “Show me.” He led her down the scarred hallway, past rooms that still smelled faintly of ash, to the door at the end. “Here.” He eased it open. The mirror room breathed damp and cold. Charred boards curled like claws. The bed frame slumped in a black husk. In the corner, tall and ornate, another mirror waited—its frame bone-white, its singed glass webbed in hairline cracks like frost.