Broken Trail Book Novels & Stories

The moment she touched it, a wave of warmth coursed through her, and the book’s pages flipped rapidly. “We’ve got it,” she said, turning to the others. But there was no time to celebrate. The walls began to shake, and the floor cracked beneath them. “Run!” Logan shouted, and they sprinted out of the collapsing temple just in time. --- The Fifth Anchor The journey to the fifth anchor was even more harrowing. The landscape changed drastically, turning into a barren desert where the air shimmered with heat. The group trudged forward, their exhaustion growing with every step.

But enough to infuriate the animal inside me. A crack sounded beside me. I looked down. My right boot had broken through the earth. The ground beneath it had fractured from the force of my weight. Cassian noticed. “You cross early, you lose her.” “She cannot be lost.” “You can still be disqualified.”

In the end, I told myself it was wrong to be petty toward a grieving widow, so I was the one who gave in and apologized. Later, when Ryan wanted to put his ring back on, he couldn't find it anywhere. Luckily, I still had the original design sketches. Since my own ring was getting worn out, I decided to order a brand-new set, identical to the first. But before the rings even arrived, our bond had already shattered. I instinctively rubbed the faint pale mark where my ring used to sit. My old band was still sitting on that table back at the Pack House. "I don't want them. Even if they're brand new and identical, our bond is fractured. There's no going back."

The sharp awareness that love, once trusted blindly, could fracture without warning. Betrayal had not only ended her marriage; it had altered the architecture of her trust. Yet as she stood there now, coffee cooling in her hand, she found herself thinking not of contracts or strategy meetings, but of a message she had received at sunrise. Calvin: “Training before the sun comes up. You’d appreciate the symmetry of it.” Attached was a photograph — not of himself, but of the racetrack bathed in pale gold light. Empty. Quiet. Possibility stretching ahead in smooth curves.

The first visible sign of barrier destabilization appeared three weeks after the Continental Gathering. A warrior named Derek was on border patrol when reality simply split open in front of him. Not a Void tear. Not a portal. Just a crack, like glass breaking, showing multiple versions of the same forest overlaid on top of each other. "It lasted maybe ten seconds," Derek reported, his voice shaking. "I could see three different forests at once. One looked normal. One was dead, all the trees grey and twisted. And one was so bright it hurt to look at it."

The both of them picked pace, running as fast as their legs and the bodies of the corpse they had let them while the booms of the tunnel behind them grew louder and louder. “Keep running,” Trisha said amidst pants. Deep in her heart, she knew they weren't going to make it. They had barely covered half the distance they had to and the collapsing was just metres behind them. They were going to be buried in the ruins of the cavern. A stalactite directly in front of them broke and its pieces went flying all around. A part tore Trisha's face and another fragment did the same to her eyes. “Are you okay?” Harold asked as Trisha stopped.

26 The trail grew darker as Sidney ran across the dirt in a panic. She craned her neck to glare at the creek behind her. When she turned back, the night blotted out the light to consume her. The nightmare became only the sound of her crunching footfalls. She sprinted blindly into the black. Then the streetlight appeared. She leaped toward the light, and when her foot landed in the circle of illumination, the ground went liquid beneath her. Her shoe vanished beneath the gravel like quicksand. Before she could stop it, her other foot followed.

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Everyone in the pack thought I was a gold digger. I was an outsider wolf with no family, yet Alpha Adrian had chosen me as his mate. His parents, friends, and even the elders insisted I wanted only his fortune and the title of Luna. Adrian alone believed me. Then, on the night of our mating ceremony, I asked him to lend me three hundred thousand dollars. From that night on, he was convinced I was vain and greedy, that the only thing I loved about him was the wealth he possessed as Alpha. When I begged him to attend my father's funeral, he sent me money. Six months ago, when I was diagnosed with wolfsoul degeneration, he believed I was just looking for an excuse to get money. The last time h

Specifically— The old ceremonial clearing. The place where I was rejected. The place where the mate bond broke. The place where the bloodline fractured socially before it fractured magically. Convergence doesn’t just follow power. It follows trauma. The clearing isn’t just sacred. It’s loaded. “That’s not coincidence,” I whisper. “No,” Morgan agrees. “Northfall wasn’t the first fracture.” “And it won’t be the last,” Kade says quietly. The old ground is calling. Not violently. Not urgently. But persistently.