Castles Crumbling Novels & Stories

We couldn’t ignore the consequences anymore, the line we were about to cross. The building we were heading to was a dilapidated structure, a remnant of the city’s forgotten past. Its crumbling walls and shattered windows made it look like a place where even the sun had given up. But it was exactly the kind of place Marcus would hide in—a place that would give him the advantage, where he could see everyone coming but remain unseen.

"But the wooden supports have not been checked in months. If the water hits the main beams before the freezing weather returns, this whole side of the castle will collapse into the marsh before sunrise." He did not move away from me. But as he spoke, a deep, heavy groan echoed from the stones right beneath our feet. It was the sound of the ancient foundation shifting under the weight of the flood. Then, a sharp metallic snap came from the middle of the drain as the iron bars began to bend upward.

I told myself that I would find a way, but I was lying to myself even then. Dartmoor was filled with unfamiliar scents. They became more pungent and bitter the further I went, until they were almost overwhelming. Never were they stronger than when I reached a dark, crumbling castle. It sat high on a hill, the ground around it barren save for dead trees. Thin red vines ran up the castle’s decaying stone walls, and as I neared, I noticed fleshy tendrils rising like towers from its base, waving in the wind. Were these the “anomalies” the book had referred to? Did that mean I was too late?

Talon's gaze was hardened, blazing with anger but also laced with an intensity Alaric couldn’t ignore. Talon lay beneath him, his long golden hair splayed out in disarray on the cracked stone of the courtyard, framing his striking, pale face. His skin was almost luminescent against the smoke-darkened ground, and his crimson eyes, fierce and smoldering, held Alaric’s in a way that made his breath hitch. He couldn't believe it. Why, even after so many years, did this crazy bird still look so undeniably captivating? The castle groaned once more, and behind them, the entire west wing crumbled, collapsing in on itself with a deafening crash. Dust and embers scattered, casting an eerie haze over t

Two months later "They're here!" Brock bellowed from upstairs. The castle rebuilding was almost finished. It was no longer a crumbling ruin, even the way it had been before the fire. His tenants had worked hard, and Joanna had hired many more local men to help. The promise of decent wages along with noon and evening meals had drawn men from miles.

I appear behind the blacksmith workshop. There has been even more destruction made to the castle. The sky is no longer clear and blue but red and dusty. The odd rock from the castle towers and walls tumble down. I can see minotaurs patrolling the area on the ground in and outside the castle while harpies flutter up high along the castle's battlements. Sir Hugo appears behind me through the portal and kneels beside me, looking through the wall's cracks to see what I’m seeing.

Fuck those sacrifices. “No matter what, once in your life, someone will hurt you, that someone will take all that you are, and rip it into pieces and they won’t even watch where the pieces land. But through breakdown, you’ll learn that you’re strong, and no matter how hard they destroy you, you can conquer anyone. You’re strong, Melissa. I know, I’ve witnessed it. ” Eugene said softly.

Instead, it atomised like a bomb in an explosion. Prior to this day, it had broken in every possible way. Slowly. Suddenly. Violently. Bluntly. Into two pieces and into ten, hundreds, thousands of them. Oftentimes it broke on its own, other times it had been shattered: through carelessness or cruelty, and thrown against the wall, it had left stains, almost like the gray one above her bed.

Royal perks—I suppose. As we step out into the hallway, my breath catches. The extent of the damage is staggering—stone walls charred and crumbling, shattered windows letting in the cool night air. But amidst the destruction, something incredible happens. Teachers stand in formation, their hands raised, chanting in low, rhythmic voices. Slowly, impossibly, the castle begins to rebuild itself—stones lifting off the ground, sliding seamlessly back into place, cracks mending as if they had never been there at all.

I shifted mid-stride, muscles snapping into place as my wolf took over, and I launched myself toward the black-stoned ruin that had once been Zade’s residence. Up close, the castle was no longer a castle at all. Half of it was gone. One entire side had collapsed, reduced to a massive pile of rubble as though something—or someone—had torn it apart from the inside out. “Has this place been bombed?” Kael muttered, staring at the destruction. “Search the inside,” I ordered. The main entrance was obliterated, its doors reduced to splintered stone and twisted metal. “Who exactly are you looking for here, Beta?” Thorne asked sharply. “Unless this place is already empty. Once they sensed their maste