Nora Roberts The Mirror Audiobook Novels & Stories

​The Forest of Mirrors was dying. The ink-black fluid spilling from Sarah’s mirror didn’t just coat the obsidian ground; it ate through the reflection of reality itself, turning the majestic, silvered trees into brittle, charcoal husks. The psychic weight of the collapse was suffocating. Every cracked pane of glass shrieked as it disintegrated, releasing the trapped whispers of a thousand stolen moments. ​Sarah stood amidst the ruins, untouched by the decay. She watched Laura and Dave with a gaze that held the clinical detachment of a mapmaker surveying a doomed border.

“Remember this: the mirror shows what is true. It shows what it wants. When you seek, be simple. One question. One answer. No bargains. No lies.” A watcher named Jorin put his palm to the black glass and whispered the name of a lost child he wanted to find. The mirror breathed and showed a small face, sleeping under a rock. Jorin’s eyes filled and he stepped away. “Good,” I said. “We will use the mirror to map. Not to bargain. Not to hunt power. It is a tool.” Night came and the castle lit with low fires. I walked the battlements and listened to the patrols. I felt the kingdom move. It was like an animal shifting in sleep. Small muscles tightened. It would wake with speed.

The house seemed to hold its breath as she moved through the room, her footsteps muffled against the old floorboards. The mirror stood at the center, its frame dark and ornate, gleaming in the dim light. She had seen this mirror before, had felt its presence in her dreams, in the whispers of the house. This mirror was not just a reflection; it was a doorway. A doorway to the past, to the lives that had been lived in this house, to the women who had been trapped in its walls.

It's not like I was in a rush to see my blind date who was on the third floor. "Ann, I already told you,” The woman in the wheelchair whispered, her voice weak and… familiar… too familiar. “I know what to do.” She kept her chin low, hair hiding most of her face. No matter how carefully I tried to look, I couldn’t see her face. “I hope so, young lady. This is not the first time you claim you know what to do, Mira." The standing woman said sharply. My breath caught. Mira? I stared harder at the bent figure in the chair.

Then silence again. Maya’s ears are ringing. She slides along the wall, trying to orient herself. The room they’re in is large. It's about twenty by thirty, with bookshelves lining two walls, a massive desk in the centre, and leather chairs scattered like islands. She's been here so many times that in daylight she could navigate it quite easily. In darkness, every step is a gamble. Light footsteps circle somewhere near the centre of the room. “You underestimated me,” Nora says, her voice moving. “That was your first mistake. Thinking I’d hide the ledger where you’d expect to find it. Thinking I’d let you walk in here and take it without a fight. You’ve spent years watching David. You never o

He groaned, the sound low and husky. I closed the remaining gap between us. His lips grazed mine until the door opened and someone walked in. "Glad to see you are in good shape, Mira; I hope I am not interrupting something, Nick?" she mocked. "You were, you annoying busybody, "I cursed under my breath. "I needed to check up on you. You gave me quite a scare. If I had known that you were busy, I wouldn't have interrupted," she laughed. "I believe that you are done preparing the herbs for her since you are here Mildred," Nick asked in an indifferent tone.

Later, when Mira had drifted into uneasy sleep by the door, I rose. The mirror above the hearth was covered in black cloth but faint light bled through the fabric like veins. I hesitated only a moment before pulling it down. The reflection stared back. The room looked identical same firelight, same sleeping child but the woman in the glass wasn’t still. She was smiling. You look tired, said Morgana’s voice, smooth and sharp. Motherhood weighs heavy on those who were born for shadows. “Get out,” I whispered. " You can’t burn your own reflection, Amara.

Rebecca merely nodded, then walked out of the room without looking back. Elsewhere, in a small apartment across from the hotel where Rebecca was staying, a woman stood in front of a mirror. Her face was beautiful, strikingly similar to Karina. But this wasn’t Karina. This was Nora. Yes, Nora had returned. She had followed Rebecca to this city because she knew Samuel had followed Rebecca too. Nora stared at the reflection of her new face with a crooked smile. Her hand gently touched her left cheek. “A perfect surgery,” she whispered. Her voice was cold, sharp, almost like a snake’s hiss.

Haneul suspected this was happening to LJ, who tend to spend too much time with humans for his own good. "She's here. Just try to focus. You can do it." Haneul told LJ, surveying their surroundings again. They were at a tiny bar somewhere in the outskirts of Munich. If their surveillance were correct, their target would be arriving any minute there to celebrate her birthday. This particular creature is a Mirror, one of the very few born on earth wearing Lilith's biological form. Mirrors were more dangerous than the ordinary Lilim, so they had to bide their time and observe. But it had been about an hour, and there was no sign of the Lilim anywhere.

She caught her reflection in the mirror as she fastened her boots, the marks were still there, darked slightly, but unmistakable. Her stomach fluttered. She both loved and feared them. Nora noticed within minutes. They were in the kitchen, Robbin pretending to be focused on her tea, her mind far away, when Nora narrowed her eyes. “Why are you wearing long sleeves?” she asked casually. Robbin didn’t look up. “I always wear long sleeves.” Nora hummed. “Not when it’s this hot.” The silence stretched between them. Then Nora stepped closer. “Robbin,” she said softly. “Look at me.” Reluctantly, Robbin did.