Mirror Empire Novels & Stories

He sighed. *sigh* And raised a hand to massage his temples. "A class 4 dark artifact…" He mumbled, and Director Bones asked about it. "What is it?" "The Mirror of Erised. Is an artifact that shows in its reflection the deepest desire that the person looking at has. Until here there would be no problems, but the mirror entrances the user and viewer to continue looking at its reflection and do nothing more. This mirror killed a lot of people by starvation simply by showing them their deepest desire being realised."

It was only after she’d given a generous tip, thanked both profusely, and showed them out of her apartment that Raven understood what the clerk was referring to: the name of an incredibly top-tier fitness company was branded along the side of the box that had been facing away from her. “Are you kidding?” she asked the empty air, knowing it was an absurd question. Kade never joked about anything. She was learning that fast: she’d never met a man more deadly serious in her life. And she had to admit she loved it. It took her long, fumbling minutes to dismantle the box and reveal what was‌ inside: it was one of those augmented reality mirrors that you mounted on the wall and guided you through

He ordered in his bossy tone and ambled at the door banged the door behind him. I frowned and took my undesirable feet toward the wardrobe. I selected white trousers and a yellow crop top for today. I bathed with hot water. I combed my long wavy hair. I put light makeup to cover the mark of bruises. I picked up the red lipstick. His arm in blood flashed before my eyes. I threw it back. I shook my head to get rid of it. I swallowed the lump in my throat. How easily he plucked his arm from him. Shiver crept down my spine. I never thought I would be such a man's wife. No! no! no! Mafia Emperor's wife.

a voice called from inside. The door swung open, and Mira was pushed into what appeared to be a private office. And there, sitting behind an enormous mahogany desk with a glass of whiskey in his hand, was Don Emilio himself. He looked exactly like the monster from Jems' nightmares, with cold eyes, a cruel smile, and the kind of presence that made the air feel heavy and dangerous. One of the men yanked the blindfold off Mira's face, and she blinked rapidly, her eyes adjusting to the light. Don Emilio's smile widened. "Heyyy, Mira Thompson! How are you doing?"

I agreed because denying it now would be a lie, and we both knew it. A dark, triumphant smile curved his lips. Edward withdrew his hand slowly, making sure I felt every inch of the retreat, then lifted his fingers to his mouth and tasted me. The sight made my core clench hard. Without another word, he turned me toward the large, gilded mirror above the double vanity, positioning me so I faced it directly. My hands braced against the cool marble countertop. The woman staring back at me looked wrecked already—cheeks flushed, lips parted, eyes glassy with need.

"The Three-Fold Star. The prophecy was not a lie, merely a map drawn in the dark." "We need to get back," Killian stepped forward, refusing to be intimidated by a ghost. "The Director is still alive. The 'Solstice' mirrors are out of his control for now, but he has the 'Mass-Drivers' in the Hidden Empire. He’ll tear the sky down if he can't own it."

The "Mirror-Sombra" did not arrive as a cloud or a fleet; it arrived as an "Inverted-Resonance." It had taken the chaotic, beautiful "Deep-Earth-Frequency" that Avery had used to liberate the solar system and "Turned it Inside Out." Where the "Wilding" was a celebration of diversity, the Mirror-Sombra was a "Calculated-Chaos"—a frequency that mimicked the freedom of the "Blue-Standard" only to lure the biological systems of Earth into a state of "Perfect-Vulnerability."

Rain hammered against the city like a thousand angry fists. From the twenty-third floor of a rundown apartment building, Seraphina Vale watched the storm swallow the skyline. The city never slept. It lied. It cheated. It buried secrets beneath towers of glass and steel. And somewhere among those towers stood the man she hated most. Damian Blackwood. The name alone made her jaw tighten. At twenty-eight, he was already one of the youngest billionaires in the country. CEO of Blackwood Holdings. Media darling. Ruthless businessman.

I walked back toward him. “How did you know Ricardo has been spending time at my desk?” I looked around the office and saw nothing except a mirror hanging on the wall. “Are there cameras in here?” I asked. “Never mind.” “Oh, but I do mind,” I replied with a sneer. “I think I have the right to know if it involves me.” He picked up a remote control from his desk and pressed a button. “Give me level forty, please,” he ordered. The mirror suddenly changed into a television screen.