Hearts Novels & Stories

She is a hundred times more scarier than Gorilla herself! I smiled shaking my head and I opened the page 224. Cardiology, great. The thing about cardiology is, a heart is a muscle. It don't have a feeling. It CAN'T be broken. The only job is to pump blood. Not emotions, feelings. I wondered what will world look like if no one would have emotions. Zero feelings. A better world maybe?

Hugo’s POV Before I have fallen in love with Eliana, the only thing I really want was to sit on the throne and rule our pack, and by the means of that, I have to cross all the line and do what I have to—so I could grasp the power in my hand, so I could beat my brother down; so I could make my father proud. But all that reasons seemed not able to make my heart ponder anymore, because as cheesy it may sound, it was only the thought of her that could make my mind be capable to be sane and my heart to beat. So the first thing my eyes landed into her—right in front of me, only had a few inches to make our arms touched, with almost three months I hadn’t be able to go near her—it was as if my tongu

“I think you, out of everyone in the world, need one person who can show you how to love again.” “And you think your cousin could do that for me?” she asked as she watched him as he thought about her question. The simple question was more than he had thought it would be. He knew it was two-sided at best. “I think my cousin could help you. I don’t know if it would be the key or not. I do think that he would help open your heart again in a way I don’t think anyone else can. You had someone like him before, so you understand.” Garrett said. “He is alone now. He needs help in life and people to love him back. For you, it may help both of you.”

DRAKE I don't know what to call the past few days for myself. Hell was what I thought my life is when I first got separated with Carina. But now it's worse than hell. I'm supposed to feel better about this but I don't feel better at all. I just hate my life. I'm a billionaire and I have all the features most people want. What's the use of all these when my life is a total mess up? I know I sent Carina away and I seriously don't want to see her. I can't get her out of my heart and that seems to be the problem for me. She's bound and etched in my heart, I am still madly in love with her.

I feel my heart sink to the pit of my stomach when a message pops up with 'Soph' and a red heart next to her name. It can't be. Please, God, let my eyes be deceiving me.

then it came. A heartbeat. Tiny, regular, rapid rhythm. Clear, like drumsticks struck too fast—but steady. As if a tiny motor beat inside. A sign of life. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Sloane's eyes flew open. "What... is that? Is that the...?" The doctor's voice was no longer clinical. It was human. Warm and soft, like a father showing his child for the first time. "That's the heartbeat. The baby's heart. You're in the eighth week. It's stable, strong. And it's there. Inside you."

The cracks in the floor glowed faintly with the same white fire still burning inside my chest. Ash forced himself into a sitting position, clutching the floor to stay upright. His movements were sluggish, but his eyes—those swirling silver-white eyes—held a clarity sharp enough to cut. “Tyla,” he rasped. “Listen carefully.” Arthur stepped forward instantly, tension rattling through him. “She’s not choosing anything until we know what the hell this ‘heart’ does.” Ash didn’t look at him. His gaze remained locked on me. “The heart is the anchor.”

Destroyed. And that's when I feel it. The bonds. All four of them. Pulsing. Strong. Permanent. Connected to a heart that's not beating.

I say softly “The big slow heartbeat under everything,” he says, his eyes still fixed on the mountain. “It’s beating… but it’s lonely. It misses us.” A shiver moves through my body, though the air stays still. Him too, it touches - same feeling, just deeper than sight. Not imagined, more like knowing without words. Kieran approaches. “The path to the Heart is not for the faint of foot. It is a full day’s climb to the sacred cleft.”

"You're not as bad as you make yourself out to be; doing bad things, bad deeds, doesn't mean your attitude is so bad." He leaned on the steering wheel with his arms crossed and kept looking at me. I wanted to touch his bicep and see if it was as hard as it looked, and for some reason, I found myself tracing with my fingers the lines that drew a small statue of liberty. "What are you basing that on?" his bicep tensed when I moved to a tattoo closer to the sleeve of his shirt: a deck of cards "You don't know anything about me."