Glass Hearts Novels & Stories

The silence between us felt alive—breathing, watching. After what felt like hours, the tunnel opened into a vast chamber that stole the breath from my lungs. The Heart of the Gate. It floated in the center of the cavern, suspended above a pool of molten gold. It wasn’t a heart in the biological sense—it was a crystal sphere, cracked and glowing from within, veins of light running across its surface like fissures in glass. Every beat sent ripples through the air, distorting reality itself. Aaron whistled softly. “Well… damn.”

Blood stained the marble floor, glistening in the madness, while screams, some chilling, others heartbreakingly human echoed through the grand columns that had stood tall for centuries. In the center of this turmoil stood a girl with striking blue eyes, unmoving, her face unreadable. A crown of fire flickered above her, flames entwining in her hair like a haunting halo. She didn't cry; not a single tear fell from her eyes. Maybe she should have. With a shaking hand, she reached out toward the grand gate, beautifully designed from bones and shimmering moonstone, locked tight by magic long forgotten. Now, ancient symbols glowed brightly, almost as if they responded to her presence and her pain

She poured every ounce of her purification light into the obsidian. ​A crack formed. Then another. ​With a sound like a shattering glacier, the obsidian bars burst outward. Elara dove into the chest cavity. ​Inside, the world was a nightmare of shifting shadows. Thick, pulsing veins of corruption hung from the ceiling like weeping willow branches. In the center of the chamber floated the Heart. It was a jagged, pulsing diamond the size of a carriage. It held a swirling, black smoke. That smoke had a face.

Because I think she is just like us Somehow her soul is full of scars and apparently also her body scars that we share from the same executioner. She is turning into part of the pack, she didn't run away from the danger, but she faces it, she is not afraid of pain, it seems familiar to her. "Her blue eyes consume me every time she looks at me, her innocent face doesn't contrast with her cynical smile. Every time she goes to the basement with Raymond, her gaze is so powerful. Even when she's next to me in the casino, charming all those guys with her eyes, or standing next to Oscar in the Warehouse.

I made my ears active as Hugo talk about his life back to the place where he had been, before he move in here. I reach for the second batch of my oreo tiramisu and took a big spoon to shove it in my mouth. For the people who haven’t tried eating this, they’re surely missing a big part of something in their life. As I quietly eat my dessert, Hugo’s eyes were focused on me, again. He’s eyeing me intently and I didn’t know I have this consciousness in my physical appearance before. I wonder what those grey eyes sees and why can’t he pull his gaze away from mine. They seemed to be so engrossed… so powerful.

My heart skipped a beat, my tears moist right then. I dropped to a crouch and held him, pressing my ear against his chest again. I could hear his heartbeat, thumping powerfully through his thin shirt. It was such a familiar sensation. It was Stan's heartbeat. As I closed my eyes, my tears flowed ever so quietly. We stayed like that for a while, and as I wiped my tears, I held Nathan firmly in my arms once more. "Please live a good life with Stan's heart." - Nathan walked with me to the gates of the orphanage, but I never once turned to look at him again.

he told me and then he was gone and left me alone with the ghost of a woman I had loved. I stumbled out of the room and made my way down the winding stone stairs until I reached the garden where the lemon trees were sagging under the weight of the salt air and I found the small wooden cabinet hidden behind a statue of a weeping angel. I ripped the door open and grabbed a handful of the glass vials and I didn't even use a syringe but I just smashed the top off one and swallowed the liquid because I needed the burning to stop.

Because she knew Grace was really not that kind of a person, her heart was a soft heart, a heart of gold. “A heart of gold love.” Cassandra teased, and Grace nodded her head in Concord. “Yes, love, a heart of gold, mehn. That is me, baby! I guess it would be a heart of stone if they dared again.” Grace said, and just immediately something she had forgotten flashed back in her head. “What?” Cassandra asked immediately if she noticed the change of expression of Grace. “The paper the dark-faced man, I mean the handsome 😈 devil, gave me, I have not checked what is written in there.” Grace lamented.

I blot my tears, whirling in despair as I search in vain for the door, for the way back to him. But a soft glow radiates all around me, turning the glassy gems beneath my feet to shining stars that look like they were just plucked from the heavens. Light fills my eyes as I bring my hands to my face, stifling a gasp. My hands glow like–like gold. Like the stars flickering overhead. My fingertips are laced with what I can only describe as magic that weaves between my fingers and down my wrists, pulsating under my skin in time with my thundering heart beat.

Without waiting for his reply, I waked into the kitchen and placed the meat and potato cheese enchiladas in a plate to heat it. “Myra!” “What?” I called back, turning on the oven. “I think we need to talk.” I turned in surprise, his voice was closer. He was leaning against the counter staring at the fridge magnets we had. There were a lot. Both, Zivah and I looked them and collected them wherever we went. I walked towards him, following his gaze. His eyes went strained on one magnet in particular. It was a dark red star with hope written on it in white. Zivah had got in a few months back and it was one of my favourite ones.