Fourth Sorrowful Mystery の小説・ストーリー

I never even noticed that I'd dislocated or broken at least half of all my fingers. I couldn't afford to fall down the steps. If I did, I would have to climb all the way back up again. Finnegan didn't even bat an eye. He just glared at me coldly, giving me a look, as if chiding me for trying to act pitiful with him to gain his sympathy. Tears streamed down my face. I admitted defeat and started climbing back up again. "I was wrong… I was wrong…" The sound of the gong was loud and crisp at the top of the mountain. The chapel yard was quiet, and the multiple statues there finally peeked out at me without revealing themselves completely.

"The ones I brought from across the sea. And I found something. A fourth verse. Hidden in the margins, written in an ancient dialect I nearly missed." "Another verse?" Ronan's jaw tightened. "How many parts does this damned prophecy have?" "Four, it seems." Theron spread out a carefully preserved parchment. "The first three we knew: the Moon Blessed rises, the kingdoms find brief peace, the Shadow Heir tests the union. But this fourth verse... it speaks of what comes after." "After the test?" I asked.

"My wish is for you to be safe, healthy, and happy for the rest of your life." Tucked inside the box was an old silver cross, a relic from the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Solmira. It was reputed to protect its wearer. I noticed a slight weariness in his gait and asked, "Don't tell me you went all the way to Solmira?" He looked a little embarrassed. "It was on the way, anyway. I heard the relics there were powerful. I wanted something to keep you safe." "Mikhail, you know there's nothing remotely 'on the way' about going from Droskav to Veridon and then to Solmira."

“The stronger the wolf, the more mates they can sustain bonds with. Four mates means you’re much more powerful than anyone knows.” Despite the indignation that coursed through me—having a fourth mate felt like a curse, not a blessing—part of me was curious about what this mysterious fourth mate might be like. Was he another cocky asshole like Lucas? Another brooding jerk like Rowan? Or something else entirely? But mostly, I just hoped I never ran into him. Three mates were already more trouble than I knew what to do with. “Can we continue training?” I asked. “I want to get stronger so I can figure out how to deal with the Elders.”

“Adrian, don’t do this.” He swallowed hard, voice cracking just barely before he forced it steady. “I, Adrian Waters of the Sun Blood Pack, reject Freda Aton as my mate.” Pain ripped through me instantly. A violent, tearing, suffocating pain that felt like claws sinking into my heart and dragging downward. I gasped, dropping to my knees as my chest burned, my vision blurred, and the sound in my ears drowned into static. The bond snapped. Shattered. Dead. And something inside me died with it.

Charles did not flinch! The car screeched to a halt, stopping just inches from him! I stomped on the gas again in panic, but the car just died, completely unresponsive! He was like a furious beast closing in, eyes blazing red. It hit me then—he had seen that coming. He had sabotaged the car well in advance! Despair washed over me. "Quit fighting; there's no escape. "I never thought you'd actually want me dead..." His voice was a sharp blade, edged with pain and restraint.

He stopped and looked at his palms it was a deep shade of red, he furrowed his brows as he realised he can't feel anything. Taking a shaky breath, he took out the orchids and placed it over the top of the cemetery, with the same frailness and tenderness as someone would show while dealing with their most loved possession, most precious possession, his hands trembling badly, with exhaustion, with the emotions he was feeling, he didn't know.

Isa is just another nobody that doesn’t care if I die tomorrow. And those two corpses, oh how I miss them out of nothing. Why? Why am I grieving for you? Why do I care? Grief is like a ball in a mason jar filled with a single ping-pong ball. All this time, a fourth-dimensional hand keeps on shaking this jar, and every time the ball hits the glass walls of the jar it hurts. It fucking hurts so much. Why am I allowed to hurt?

I screamed while crying and looking at him dead in my arms. I cried so loud and hard like a beast roaring in the middle of the thunder because of the loved one who passed away, but the most painful thing is I am the reason why he passed away. I killed him and I am so stupid in what I have done. I cried so hard with pain and regret while remembering the love that we built, and it is like a movie playing backward that is crushing me into pieces. That is adding up to my sorrow. The trust that he gave, the life that he shared with me makes me feel regret. The happy moments with him, the ice cream at the park, the hello kitty that he bought for me, the making love inside my room, his hugs and kis

She wanted to cause him the same amount of pain as he had caused her when he killed her leader so she began to walk over to Micah and Kurt while the other Ginx still hovered over Joe and Lydia. "Micah, she's coming for us. What do we do? What do we do, man?" Kurt asked in a panic as she got closer. "Hold my machete," Micah replied and handed the weapon to Kurt. He took out the codex and flipped through the pages until he stopped at one of them. Micah raised his hands and began to read the contents of the magical book. "Sicut fumus dies ventorum. Sicut sonitus post factum est. mitto te, et impero tibi, ne redeat nam in cantu tacet."