Burning Bridges Book Novels & Stories

(Hannah’s POV) The smell of burnt wood and ash still lingered in the air as I stepped over the caution tape. The building had been nothing more than a quiet corner bookstore—one I’d passed dozens of times without much thought. Now, it was a skeleton of charred beams and shattered glass. I swallowed hard. Standing here, in the middle of what was once a thriving business, made everything feel more real. This wasn’t just a story; it was someone’s life in ruins.

It clattered, teetered on the far edge, and held, forming a narrow, treacherous path over the fiery drop. “COME ON!” Anton roared, holding out his hand. Sabatine stared at the makeshift bridge, at the flames licking at its middle, at Anton’s outstretched hand on the other side. There was no time for fear, for calculation. There was only trust. He ran. Two steps onto the brass beam. It wobbled violently under his weight. A flame caught his trouser leg. He didn’t slow. He kept his eyes locked on Anton’s. He was halfway across when the beam, superheated and stressed, began to buckle in the middle with a sickening groan.

The hand left my mouth. Now it was just me and him. Eye to eye. His presence swallowed me whole, tall, sharp, his face unreadable, like it had been carved from stone. Jawline sharp. My throat burned as he wrapped his hand around it, his grip firm but not crushing. Cold steel pressed against my neck—the knife. I gasped, my bag slipping from my shoulder. It hit the ground with a dull thud, spilling open, and my book tumbled out. He glanced down. The cover showed a girl in a tattered white dress, standing alone, shadows stretching around her. Black roses curled up the sides, thorns sharp, almost alive. The title dripped in blood-red letters across the top.

Then fell back into his unending abyss of silence. And while the fires licked out of control at Honeycomb Haven, spreading from the upright wooden box-hives to Cassie Patrick’s house and the outbuildings, the Gospel Book Store downtown blazed away itself like a beacon in the night—having been similarly torched—its hundreds of Bibles burning and melting, turning to holy ash inside the structure, before Glee Deadmond even had the chance to purchase a new one to replace her old.

she called in an echo as she entered the smoke of darkness. I had second thoughts. Once I go through that darkness, there’s no out for me. I closed my eyes and remembered Carissa. This was for her. I entered and immense heat tortured my skin. “Don’t waste time, Hen. Your next question?” Everything looked pretty normal until I looked down. An instant heart attack hit me when I discovered that we were on a wide bridge made of hardened coal and ash but it wasn’t the bridge that scared the heck out of me. It was the river of lava we were right above.

Something moved in her heart, as if a deeply hidden emotion was awakened. "You think?" Carl was 33 yards away from Violet when the Demon King suddenly threw a few beer bottles on the bridge. The bottles cracked open as a pungent smell spread rapidly. The Demon King tossed a fire torch behind Carl. He left after seeing the ferocious fire engulf the wooden surface of the chain bridge. The bridge was made of metal chains and wooden planks. The metal chains were the core of the bridge, while the wooden planks complemented the bridge. Carl, who had defeated the vultures, only needed a few more steps before he would see Violet. But the Demon King had burned the wooden surface of the bridge.

She looked at the brook under the bridge and said, "Some things should just flow away like the water under this bridge. I actually wanted to sneak away when your father's parents tried to split us up, but your father got on his knees before me and begged me not to leave. "He told me he would die without me. I believed him then, but I later realized that no one would die without anyone by their side. He doesn't need me to watch over him, and I don't need his charity. From now on, let's just act as if we died in that fire. As for you and Christopher…" I held her hand and leaned against her shoulder. "We have to let bygones be bygones. Christopher and I are now a thing of the past."

I had thought that it would burn me – taking a peek at the two women who were with me, they were back away from the fire, Leah patted the small flame that got on her pants, Lyv helping her put it out. I could still feel the heat, but what was odd was that the flames didn’t burn me. I lowered my hands slowly, looking at the book – now burning yet the pages were intact. My heart beat fast as I walked back to the podium. I blink, there was something new. I blinked again. I rubbed it, feeling the sting I had felt when Leah brought me to Neverwhere.

I took my book and I lit my index finger with fire and tried burning the book. "They got us there". Zale said and sighed getting his own book and tried to toss it in the ocean. I stopped my fire and stopped him. "Well, as we are back to square one, let's just try to gather information from the northern part," I said and smiled at him. I put my book inside my bag again. It was pointless anyway, to burn the book. It is the book of origin, a book written by the Gods, it is protected from being harmed by anything, by anyone.

The night before we are supposed to make our marriage official at the town hall, I decide to leave my fiance, Don Luca Camorra. For five years, Luca's friends have believed I'm nothing more than a gold digger. No one believes it more than Giulia Sereni, the girl who grew up alongside him. She claims that a woman like me—a girl who claws her way out of the slums—can never hide the greed in her eyes. So, to prove that I love Luca for who he is, not for his money, I don't spend a single cent of his money throughout all those years. Even the engagement rings we exchanged five years ago are carved from wood. But when Giulia finds out, she only sneers. "Someone who asks for nothing usu