Glass Sword Series Novels & Stories

We stop in front of her, our eyes cautiously trained on her agitated form. Apolliana smiles as she stretches her shoulders and produces large white wings and a sword covered in white fire. The sword is unlike any I’ve ever seen. Most sacred swords are metallic with red or blue fire. Apolliana’s look like it's made of glass with white fire. My brothers also take out their flaming swords; Michael and Rafael’s swords are surrounded by blue fire, and mine is also rare with a black blade and handle and black fire. However, none of us are ready to attack. The thought of hurting Apolliana’s makes us all ill.

I was more than ready to love and cherish her for the rest of my life. My joy knew no bounds. It was a double celebration for us as we’d been able to secure the Meereen glass. We came back home with as much ten pieces of the glass that has now been set out for the blacksmith to carve into blades. This blades would be our leverage against the dark forces. Against the witches who sought to destroy the werewolf lineage. What more is left for me? I needed to get back home and relay the good news to my brother and the members of the council.

He stared intently at my face; the contempt and disdain in his eyes was long replaced by shock and disbelief. Just then, the doctor walked in holding an autopsy report, his tone tinged with regret. “This is Carol’s autopsy report. “Her chest cavity was pierced by glass shards, directly rupturing her heart. “The wound appeared minor on the surface, but the damage was severe, leading to massive post-injury bleeding. “If she had received timely medical attention, she could have survived. What a pity...” “Heart... pierced...” Mom murmured these words repeatedly, her legs giving way as she nearly collapsed.

The half-eaten food beneath it was—chips, burgers, cola, pizza, roast chicken, roast lamb, even a plate of rice with stew. They howled like beasts. Words failed them, and only screams came out. Then they hurled themselves at the glass with the last strength their frost-hollowed bodies could muster. Cyrus lifted his cup, watching them through the steam. "Who said glass has to be weaker than metal?" he said calmly. He hadn't chosen ordinary glass. He had refused the cheap metal reinforcement the security firm offered and paid a fortune for a single, custom-made sheet of bulletproof glass instead.

Noah No one prepared me for this. The garden of my father's mansion had been completely transformed. What was once a quiet, open stretch of trimmed hedges and stone paths now looked like something out of a high-society magazine. Miss Gina had outdone herself. Strings of warm fairy lights were draped carefully across the pergolas, their golden glow reflecting off crystal glassware arranged on tall cocktail tables. Lanterns lined the stone walkway, guiding guests through the space, while a soft instrumental band played somewhere near the fountain, their music blending into the low hum of conversations.

Virelle leaned closer to the window. Gold had always been faint in them, subtle enough to look almost brown in normal light. But now, under the fractured moon, they were brighter. Not fully gold, it was threaded with silver. Her stomach dropped. “No,” she whispered. She lifted her hand and touched the glass. The girl in the reflection did the same. But the eyes looking back at her did not belong to the person she had been yesterday. And deep beneath the academy, beyond stone and oath and blood, something seemed to stir in answer.

It shattered, splitting apart like glass under pressure. For a moment, everything froze. Then I saw it. My sword, it was glowing. A soft, fiery light danced along the edges. Alive. “What the hell…” Aegon said behind me, his voice low. He stepped forward, examining the remains. His brows furrowed deep. “This dummy is built with carbon fiber,” he said. “That’s not supposed to happen.” He looked at me, something hard in his eyes now. “Jules… what was that?”

He hadn’t told her he was coming. He didn’t know if he should. But when he saw her silhouette appear behind the glass, his chest tightened. She looked smaller than before. And stronger. Vivienne noticed him a moment later. Their eyes met through the glass. She pressed her hand against the window. So did he. Separated by inches of reinforced steel and years of manipulation, they stood there, breathing the same city air, sharing the same silence. Her phone buzzed. Vivienne: You shouldn’t be here.

I mutter. The mirror pulses a violent red. The heating elements are failing, the glass spider-webbing under the thermal stress. C-O-M-P-R-O-M-I-S-E-D. One final sentence scrolls across the bottom before the glass shatters into a thousand glittery shards. O-N-E G-U-A-R-D I-S N-O-T H-I-S. I drop to a crouch as the glass rains down. I don't feel the shallow cuts on my shoulders. I'm staring at the empty frame.

No knots. Lorenzo froze. His icy blue eyes widened in a fraction of a second as the realization hit his brain. He looked down. My right hand was already moving. Slid out from behind my back, my fingers were wrapped tightly around the five-inch, razor-sharp shard of heavy lamp glass I had snatched from the floor while he was walking toward me. Before he could call out, before his guards could draw their weapons, I drove the jagged glass straight toward his throat.