Martyr Novel Novels & Stories

Does running away will remove the pain that we're feeling in our hearts? I don't know. But it's the only way my mind telling me. I, Cianna Marie Alvarez-Del Mundo, a martyr wife of Rodleigh Mariano Del Mundo and is now tired of being his martyr wife. "I don't want to be a fool anymore! I don't want to be your wife, to be a martyr anymore, Rodleigh Mariano Del Mundo!" I then again shouted before running away from his home.

Nora "What's that?" Charlie asks. I cock my head and listen to the bumps outside of the room. It's hard to say since the doors at Hawthorn are so thick. Instead of responding, I go back to my work. After Jared was killed, my resolve to get myself and the other captives out of this hellhole doubled. I refuse to see anyone else murdered. It took a lot of practice, but finally I got that spell right. The old, almost-forgotten one that's said to work on even the strongest magicked cages and locks.

I folded my hands. “No, you are trying to get yourself killed.” His voice dropped, and he glanced over his shoulder, “...you of all people should know that once a person has been marked by The Martyrs, they are already as good as dead.” “You do not know that,” I scowled, but he did. We all did. The chances of escape were slim to none, and if Ledger was not there the first time, I would have been picking out a coffin for the woman who owned half my heart.

I shudder to imagine how I will survive it. But in his lust, Marty made a fatal mistake, a mistake which he is paying dearly for. And then, just like that, the light in his eyes goes out, his bleeding heart stops and he is no more. Lord…Marty of Crimsonhill is dead. By my hands… I turn away, frantically crawling towards the door. “Open up! Open up! Let me out!” I cry, banging my bloodied fists against it. I do not care who comes anymore. I believe that with Marty dead, none will dare to touch me. Weakened as I am, I am still the head of Morningstar, and with me as Marty’s supposed mate, no one would dare lift a finger against me. No one except maybe –

I ask, still not looking. “Not well,” he says, voice strained. “But, yeah. I do. They were good kids.” Tears prick at my eyes. What sort of monsters would do such a thing? Come in here and murder innocent people? “Brynn,” I gasp. Brynn’s dorm is on this floor. Like almost everyone else, she must have been sleeping when the Silver Hunters attacked. Did she manage to get away? Is she even still alive? “I need to find Brynn,” I gasp.

I thought of the world that was currently waking up to a silence it didn’t understand. But as I felt that tiny, second heartbeat pulse against my palm, I didn’t feel like a fugitive. I didn’t feel like a victim of a global conspiracy. I felt like an Architect. The first book was about the blood. It was about the betrayal and the breaking of the old world. It was about the trauma of the glass and the roar of the mountain. But the second book? The one we were starting right now, in this quiet French valley? That book was going to be about the Home.

We went in fast and spread out, my men took different corridors while I moved through the center of the building with Nero and his crew at my back. Roman had gone ahead of all of us. I heard his voice before I reached the corridor. "Marty." His voice was filled with pain in a way I had never heard from Roman in the years I had known him. "Marty, open your eyes. Come on." I came around the corner and saw them. Marty was on the floor with blood coming from his head. Roman knelt beside him with both hands pressed against the wound, his face looking pale. I crouched beside Roman.

I had gone there to tell Selena that I was about to have my Marking Ceremony. Instead, I found George there, disheveled, unshaven, a shell of the boy I once knew. He had buried Frendo beside Selena, and every day he stayed there, mourning them both. Lily's remains, however, he had cremated and mixed into the muddy soil nearby, using her ashes to nourish a patch of tulips. When George saw me again, he eagerly picked one of the tulips and offered it to me like a desperate beggar.

Her eyes were filled with disbelief. For a brief second, I thought she wasn't listening to what I was saying until she lunged at me, her fingers clamped tight around my throat. “You should have died with him. As you didn't, I am going to make sure you meet wherever he is right now!” She growled through gritted teeth. I struggled in her grasp, my breath coming out in a whoosh. “Zane was killed because he killed someone. He murdered Gamma James' mate!” I managed to say.

Something in my chest slowly relaxed. Once we found the vial and smashed it, we could return to the real world. We could start over. Just then, a faint glimmer appeared in the fog ahead—the crystal vial. I let go of Kyle's hand and stepped forward, reaching out to grab it. The moment it touched my palm, I felt a warmth. I looked down at it, hesitating. "Quick, destroy it, Nora," Kyle said behind me. "Let's get out of here." I didn't move. The small line of text from the book surfaced in my mind.