Mirror Man Chapter 8 Novels & Stories

For now, she should do what the strange man wanted. Her eyes moved around the room again. Nothing. No clothes in sight. She exhaled. “I cannot find anything to wear,” she said. Lucian looked at her. “So?” A small smirk touched her lips. “Give me your underwear.” Mira demanded out of spite, there was no way, he would do that. A long pause. “What?” Ken almost choked. “That is completely—” “Fine.” Lucian moved without hesitation. He unzipped his pants.

Miracle The feel of my skin getting burned jolted me awake. I whimpered as I felt the silver cuffs burn my wrists and ankles. I weakly looked around to see my sister Malia looking down at me with a smile on her face. The familiar feeling of fear took over me when I saw the sickly sweet smile on her lips. “Please Malia, not today. I don’t feel good.” I cried, begging my sister to leave me alone. “What are you pretending for, Miracle?” She asked, rolling her eyes at me.

"And she’s going to use it to kill us. If we don't find, she will use him to take your throne." Ricardo stared at me for a long time. The silence in the room was heavy. Finally, he nodded. "Fine," he whispered. "But once I tell you, there’s no going back. You’ll be part of the secret forever." "I’m already part of it," I said, thinking of the red laser dot on Maria’s chest and the golden eyes in the woods. "I’ve been part of it since the day I stepped into this mirror." I sat on the bed, my heart ready for the truth. I knew that the next few hours would change everything. The "Mirror of Malice" was about to show us a face we never expected to see.

"Shows truth that normal mirrors hide. My father used it to track his own deterioration." He hands the mirror to Lucian. "Look at yourself. See what I see." Lucian takes the mirror reluctantly. The black glass feels cold, almost alive. He angles it to catch his reflection. At first, nothing unusual. Just his face. Dark hair. Silver eyes. Normal. Then the mirror shifts. The surface ripples like water. When it settles, Lucian's reflection changes. Red veins crawl beneath his skin. Faint but visible. Spreading from his chest outward like cracks in glass. His eyes glow with that crimson rim, brighter now. More obvious.

POV: Afnan The chamber trembled violently. The walls of the Mirror Gate cracked and warped, flickering between reality and nightmare. My reflection hovered a few feet away, eyes sharper, movements more fluid, a perfect imitation of me, yet everything about it screamed danger. I staggered backward, barely catching myself as the floor rippled like water. My reflection smirked, a cruel twist of my own lips, and raised a hand. Instinct screamed at me to strike, to destroy it. But something deep inside whispered: You can’t fight yourself. Not here. Not now.

As they reached the final chamber, Ayla stopped. At its center stood a single mirror—taller than a man, its frame carved from moonstone. The surface rippled faintly, as if it were breathing. Her heart pounded. “This is it.” Kian stepped closer, his hand on his sword. “Careful. The Mirror doesn’t just show. It binds.” Ayla ignored him. She lifted her hand and touched the glass. The surface rippled beneath her fingertips, cool and alive. For a heartbeat, she saw only her reflection. Then, slowly, another image formed—her face, but different. Darker eyes. A crescent mark glowing on her brow.

Vile, conniving, shit-hearted freak. One of them lifted her limp body off the bed so that the other could lie down, then laid her atop the horizontal one before climbing above her so she was sandwiched between them. Alaric’s frown deepened. “Hell no. I do not like this at all—” I raised my hand and swiped it across the moonmirror’s surface. “D’zarr vele’.” The mirror went black. I turned to face my friend. “Well? What do you have for me, besides the fact that you are just as confused and disturbed as I am?”

It made no difference. I walked straight through the halls, my steps echoing off the stone until I reached the chamber where I kept my prize. My hand lingered on the door a moment, savoring the anticipation, before I pushed it open. The Mirror stood waiting. I stepped toward it, watching my reflection bend and warp in the black glass, a thousand versions of me peering back with the same hungry eyes. A laugh rumbled out of me, low and dark, filling the room. “Oh, poor Jalen,” I whispered, leaning closer, my breath fogging the glass. “I gave you an opportunity. To stand at my side. To shift your loyalties against the skirts of your ex-Luna. But you spat it back in my face.”

Her pupils were too large, swallowing the color of her irises. The skin under her eyes was dark, bruised with something sickly. And then— She smiled. A slow, curling thing that spread too wide, teeth too sharp, the expression all wrong. I scrambled back, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The reflection tilted its head, as if studying me. And then— It raised a hand. And waved. My stomach twisted. Because I hadn’t moved at all. 21 MIRA Something wasn’t adding up. I leaned forward, my fingers tightening around the manila folder in my lap.

As for me, I was so weak I could barely see. My blood was running dry, my vision blurring, but I stared at Cassian’s breakdown with the cold detachment of a ghost. This was what I wanted. I wanted them to see the truth. I wanted them to pay for what they did. Just then, the Blood Mirror shook violently. Its red light grew blinding. Everyone thought the memories were over, but the mirror began pulling out a memory that shouldn't exist.