Build My Gallows High Novel Novels & Stories

She was holding her notebook. "Elara! Vane! Look!" She pointed to the last page of the notebook. A new paragraph was writing itself in real-time, in a gold ink that hadn't existed five minutes ago. “The End of the Story was burned, but the Drafts remain. And the First Draft of the New World has just been rejected by the Publisher.” The ground beneath the manor groaned. But it wasn't an earthquake. A massive, celestial shadow fell over the house. Elara looked up and saw a giant, golden pen miles long descending from the clouds.

Stealthily, we went past the first garrison in the stronghold, killing the guards stationed there. The fenced bungalow was in sight; dark and alone. The sombre eye in the sky looked down upon us, and I felt the power of the full moon edging us on to take back our lost glory. Like shadows in the dark, our bright yellow eyes glowed with thirst for more blood. We climbed through the twelve feet fence with grappling hooks, and landed softly into the unguarded area protecting the king. There was no trace of life or light anywhere. My intestines churned within me, knotting into a bundle of nervous ribbons.

The sadness in her tone was heavy, matching the gloom of the ruins. I signaled the advance. If the outside looked neglected, the interior was a graveyard of memories. It was silent…..unnervingly so. How am I supposed to find the eldest woman in a ghost town? A heavy thud startled me. I spun around to see Novel sliding from Kitty’s back, hitting the dirt. I rushed to her side, my heart hammering against my ribs. I wanted to roar at the wolf, who at least had the grace to look guilty, but the sight of Novel’s pale, unconscious face silenced my anger.

HANNAH POV The gates closed behind the limousine with a deep, echoing sound. I pressed my hands against my thighs, my fingers trembling as the car rolled deeper into the palace grounds. The building loomed ahead of us, massive and unforgiving, its stone walls glowing faintly under the moonlight. Towers stretched into the sky like silent watchers, their windows lit with a warm glow that did nothing to calm my nerves. I felt like I’ve entered into prison, with no hopes of leaving. The alphas words still ranged in my head like a bell. “YOU BELONG TO US.” I wasn’t a property that they could just decide they own, but I knew I couldn’t do anything about it.

Zaika's pov Gallum had been weak and it bothered me that he would simply sacrifice himself so callously. I felt angry with myself for being hurt by my backstabbing best friend's sudden death. I had won the crown yet wasn't thrilled. Tucking the document in the inside of my shirt I glanced around. Seeing all the chaos Gallum had caused by his explosive death was heartbreaking. Vossler and Bryce seemed unaware of the devastation going on around them until I shouted at them both to look around. Taking their eyes off the stacks of bills they held they glanced around. Both their eyes bulged and mouths fell.

- like he’s just now seeing me clearly. My voice drops low, almost like a breath. What matters most gives courage its shape. My gaze lands on our boy’s quiet features. Silence is his answer. Instead, he moves closer, pressing his lips to mine - a long, quiet moment holding safety, trembling honesty, together again. Words aren’t needed; this says everything. (Noah’s POV) Above the river bend, Highvale stands - not stone alone, but intent shaped into walls. Rising tall, made of light-colored rock, it serves both talk and threat. From every southern keep, flags wave where air moves freely. Grace lives here, alongside blades kept sharp.

Our convoy roars its engines; two cars go before us, and three guard our backs. We drive down to the gallows at full speed, and I give my men the signal. In the first car, one of the guards sticks their upper body out of the window and throws a grenade at the gates of the gallows. The explosion shook the earth and the flames went up to the heavens. The yelling of the guards fills the air, and soon bullets begin to fly. Explosions, gunshots, and groans of pain flew across the air, along with the scent of blood and burning flesh.

Jane took a slash across the arm and didn’t slow. “You hear that?” she snapped at the Queen. “You’re just another leash.” The Queen smiled. “Leashes bite back.” Water surged harder beneath the forecourt. Stone vibrated underfoot. Gallus emerged in pieces—water thickening, holding shape, reinforcing itself with muscle and bone. A hooked beak broke the surface. Tentacles followed, slapping stone, gripping rails, testing reach. No one was surprised. “Head’s up,” Gabe said. Gallus dragged more of himself onto the forecourt. The lowest steps flooded ankle-deep.

My ghost trembled on the verge of unraveling. I was dead. I'd been sold to the brothel, tortured beyond measure, devoured by dogs until nothing was left of me. And all of it—every last shred of suffering, every ounce of guilt I'd carried for "killing" my brother—had been one colossal, sick joke. A tidal wave of absurdity and bitter rage crashed over me. My spirit screamed in silence, howling, splintering apart. But when the crying was over, all that remained was a hollow, unfamiliar calm.

The horizontal iron bar didn't bend; it slid. A long three-ton steel bar, engraved with the thousand-yard hatch-marks of the surveyors, dropped from the dark ceiling like a guillotine blade, its lower edge perfectly aligned with the signature line where Elara’s body was pinned. The razor-sharp edge of the steel gauge was three inches above her neck, its surface reflecting the orange glow of the boiler-core like a mirror made of cold grease.