Immortal Instruments City Of Bones Novels & Stories

Beneath the Bones The city stirred before the dawn. But the winds were wrong. It wasn’t just the howling cold of the coming storm it was deeper. A hum beneath the earth. A tremor that whispered beneath every cobblestone. It rattled doors. Frightened horses. Made even the strongest warriors glance uneasily at the ground. Aria felt it first, standing at the edge of the Moonwell. Something was shifting. Not in the air but in the bones of the world itself.

It helps to spread my influence and that of the Brotherhood. Inferno is quite a big club, and I’ve been targeting it for months. Now I’ve Castor where I need him. He’s in a huge debt with some loan sharks and needs to sell the club. That’s where I come in, to make his day shine. Bones drops the briefcase filled with wads of dollars on the table between Castor and me. The man eyes the cash, swallowing thickly. The music from below blares, cutting through the silence between us.

Even if I had to, I'd drag someone down with me. A rusty axe lay in the corner of the cabin, left behind after chopping firewood. Without hesitation, I grabbed it and swung at the lock. A loud clang echoed across the entire pack's territory, sending birds scattering from the rooftops. After a dozen swings, my arms burned with pain. The lock finally snapped. I shoved the door open and bolted. Under the moonlight, my skin gleamed an eerie violet. Clearly, the wolfsbane had seeped into my bones.

BRAN I watch in awe as the men bundle Simon and his goons out, their faces unrecognizable, bones broken; one even has a twisted neck with his teeth shattered, blood dripping from his gaping mouth. Simon received the worst of all. It's clear Isolde targets him the most. Not only did he lose all his teeth, but almost all his bones are broken, including his jaw, which is twisted to one side. While the others wail in pain, Simon is the only one barely breathing.

“You’re Nightfell.” Maeven’s gaze didn’t flinch. “I was hidden in it.” Sable’s breath caught. Caelan’s hand tightened on her wrist. Eamon’s stare sharpened like a storm gathering. Maeven lifted her pouch and turned it upside down. Bones fell into her palm. The chamber went still so fast it felt like the air snapped. A Hollow wolf whispered, “Bone…” Rowan’s jaw tightened. “Say it.” Maeven looked at Sable.

Wolves collided with bone-rattling force, growls echoing between buildings. And then she felt it. A tug. Deep in her chest. Her heartbeat synced with theirs. She gasped, clutching her sternum as heat flooded her veins. Images flashed—gold eyes, blood on concrete, hands gripping her waist, teeth at her throat—not in violence, but possession. “No,” she whispered. “No, no—” The door behind her rattled. A voice whispered from the other side. “Chosen girl…” Her blood ran cold. Whatever she was becoming— The city already knew. And it was coming to collect.

"And when it does, you'll run with me. You'll hunt. You'll claim your place." I nodded against him, my body melting into his despite the turmoil in my mind. The pack's scrutiny, the threat of Thorne, the loss of my humanity—it all loomed in the dark. But here, in his arms, the wild called to me. A growl built in my throat, unbidden, vibrating in my chest as sleep claimed me. The girl from the city was fading. In her place, something fiercer, hungrier, stirred in the dark.

I stood and pulled out the gun, which was at my waist, and loaded it in front of Vivian. "Lay a finger on you? That's a waste of my time!" I suddenly raised my hand. This caused her to scream and squat down with her hands on her head. What she thought was the end wasn't. My gun wasn't aimed at her; it was aimed at the wine cabinet behind her. The next second, there was a loud bang. The sound of glasses shattering echoed in the room. The flying shards had even cut Vivian's waist, leaving a deep blood trail.

The First City didn’t just wake up; it screamed. The sound was a tectonic grinding of quartz against basalt, a high-frequency vibration that made the marrow of my teeth ache. Beneath our feet, the floor of the High Balcony—once solid, indigo stone—rippled like the surface of a dark pond. The Bone King’s spirit, denied the vessel of Killian’s body, had retreated into the city’s very foundation, turning the "Silver Rise" architecture into a sprawling, sentient cage.

"We were merely returning from an early research walk to consult the botanical archives—" "Save the theatrical falsehoods, Mr. Vane," Vance interrupted, his voice cutting through the hall like a razor blade. "The entire eastern wing of the upper dormitories has been reduced to ash, and your suite looks as though it survived a localized siege. Do you take me for a fool?" "We didn't cause the breach," Zeyric stepped out from behind Thalen, his chin lifted despite the frantic, warning thrum of the soul-bond screaming inside his ribs. "Veyron broke in. He was corrupted by something in the lower city, a parasitic charm—"