Rage And Ruin Novels & Stories

Kiara Rathore's terrifying, absolute decree violently crashed entirely back into his fading logic: Your mother's fragile ventilator will completely, violently stop exactly ten minutes after your final, muzzled breath. A catastrophic, blinding spark of pure, unadulterated primal rage violently ignited completely within the absolute, freezing ashes of his deeply shattered soul. The two point five billion dollars was permanently, irreversibly gone. His pristine, highly expensive corporate empire was entirely ashes. His beautiful, incredibly arrogant face was a completely unrecognizable, actively bleeding mask of raw, violently shredded flesh entirely caged behind heavy, rusted iron. He was comp

“Let me out. I want violence.” “No.” I oppose. “You will kill us. Don’t touch those chains.” “It’s better than killing the innocents.” I growl, my jaw tight. I rip my suit off first, then my white shirt, the fabric sticking slightly to the drying blood on my skin. My muscles are tight, coiled with too much tension, too much heat. The faint scars on my body that refuses to fade totally away comes to view. They remind me of everything I’ve gone through. I don’t regret having them. They let me live with the pain. The rage in me that threatens to burn everything at every chance it gets to breathe.

Entire cities have vanished, and when I try to remember what stood there, my mind slides off the space like it’s polished glass. That is the worst part. There should be grief. Names. Faces. Instead there is absence where memory should live. The Rage devoured the Madness and renamed itself the Fury. It tears through the north like a god drunk on its own power, warping sky and stone with every strike. Packs turn feral just breathing the air it’s touched. Brothers kill brothers in frenzies they won’t remember, if they survive at all. Three days ago, the Despair slipped free, it moves softly. Gently.

“I was arrogant, reckless! I played with forces I barely understood. I was a fucking fool, and you paid the price for it. How can you just stand there and not hate me for it?” “Because I can’t live my life fueled by hate, Ruin,” she says firmly. “What good would it do to hold on to anger and let it consume me? I lost my sight, not my ability to feel, to understand. Yes, you made a huge mistake, but holding onto anger won’t bring my sight back.” “But you should hate me, despise me!” I insist, my voice rising in frustration. “What I am… the things I’ve done… I’m supposed to be feared, loathed!”

I completely lost my mind, blindly trashing everything within my physical reach, hurling my ceramic lamps against the painted walls and watching them shatter into a thousand jagged, irreparable pieces. I tore the heavy fabric cushions directly off the sofa, my breathing ragged and entirely out of control as I systematically destroyed my own room, desperately trying to physically expel the suffocating rage that was rapidly consuming my soul. By the time the heavy darkness of the evening had completely settled over the dense, forested perimeter of modern Junylria, the destructive rage had hardened into a cold, lethal focus. I stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Alpha Magnus and Beta Ronan in the f

“Dri… baby, please. I’m so sorry. I fucked up. I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m drunk and miserable without you. Come back to me. I’ll do anything. I swear I’ll—” I hung up before he could finish, my hands trembling. A second later a video came through. I opened it before I could think. The footage was from my old apartment. Carter had broken in. He was smashing things, my favorite mug, the framed photo of my mother, tearing clothes out of my closet, throwing books across the room. His face was twisted with rage. “You think you can replace me?” he screamed at the camera. “I’ll burn everything you own. Come back to me or I swear I’ll find you and make you regret it.”

My hand twitched around the broken glass and before I could think, I turned and slammed my fist into the wall. Pain exploded up my arm, but it barely scratched the surface of the rage boiling under my skin. Blood smeared the paint, dripping lazily from my knuckles. I stared at it for a second, watching it fall, slow and steady. “I’ll ruin it all,” I muttered under my breath, voice ragged. “Him. Her. Their happiness. I'll have to do something to destroy them.”

He and his family were the ones who ruined my life. Flame heated my heart. There were times that I felt calm and nothing whenever I would think about Gray, but when I would remember how his blood did me dirty, I could not freaking contain myself. The anger within me was so much that I would not be surprised if I would ruin my plans just because I followed what my anger was telling me. It was not good. It would never be smart either. AERAH’S POV

She was his life. Seeing her eyes closing, Theodore lost his calm, anger immediately filling his roaring irises. "Who the fuck did this to my fiance?!" He roared, his growl causing his own mother to flinch back. His calmness was scary, but his anger was scarier. Now seeing his fiance, bruised and fainted in his arms, Mona didn't had to doubt to conclude Theodore had successfully lost his calm. He will avenge for her. And he will avenge very painfully. ***

They weren’t just wounded—they were ruined. Her hand slowly inched toward the back of her waist where her gun was tucked beneath her shirt. Every muscle in her body tensed with fear and adrenaline. “You evil, twisted witch,” Selena hissed, her voice raspy and strained, as if her throat, too, had not been spared from the flames. “We know everything. It was you. You took our money. You burned us. You humiliated my mother. You ruined our lives.” Eduardo’s eyes gleamed with rage, his voice even colder than hers. “We lost everything because of you, Ruby. You think you’ve won? You think this is over?”