Reflekta Miraculous Ladybug Novels & Stories

He leaned against the wall, his eyes not leaving my body. My stomach turned in disgust. This did not feel right to me, but— "My make-up can do that for me, Michael." Michael rubbed his thumb and index finger together while watching me, his expression unreadable. "One day, Lyla... Just one day, I wouldn't take 'no' for an answer."

“Yes, Mother Witch.” “And don’t mess this up,” Malindra adds just before the mirror stills, the last ripple fading as their faces dissolve back into glass. Irena exhales through her nose, trying to keep her frustration in check. They always want more. Always pushing. She turns away from the mirror, the dim room settling back into silence. At the end table beside the bed sits a small glass container. Inside, a single blister beetle crawls along the smooth surface, its metallic body catching the faint light.

She inhaled slowly and continued, her tone stronger now, almost commanding. “Per ignem lucernae… Per umbram cordis… Revela quod latet in mente.” The candle flame suddenly stretched taller. My wolf growled. Miranda’s fingers twitched slightly as if she had touched something unexpected. Then she whispered the last part, slower… more careful. “Non fracta… sed ligata… Non perdita… sed custodita…” Miranda’s eyes snapped open. Her fingers were still touching Aria when she suddenly pulled back slightly, like she had brushed against something that didn’t belong there.

Alice mumbled, nails tingling, shoving the note away. Mira’s eyes softened, but her voice was coaxing. “You’re spiraling, Alice. The gym will be loud, lights flashing, music pumping. It’ll drown out the chaos.” Her hand brushed Alice’s desk, leaving another folded note. “Read this later. It’s why you need to be there.” The note read: The rally’s your safe place. Stay with me. But the crescent moon symbol matched the first note, and Alice’s scar pulsed, her senses catching fur and blood beneath Mira’s scent. Mira wasn’t just a friend—she was a hybrid, a cult creation, steering Alice to the rally for Samuel’s plan.

Caroline, a she-wolf who has been considered a monster since she was a child, can she break the tragedy spell and find her MATE?

Megumi's eyes smiles as she points at something that looks like a mirror maze, she smiled at me and said, "Let's go there!" Smiling at me like that is a foul play Megumi, how can I say no now? Of course I can't so I grabbed her hands and lead her there. The students greeted us and said, "Welcome to our class's Wonderland. If you manage to find the tunnel's end withing 15 minutes, you get a prize of okonomiyaki, a japanese vegetable pancake. So are you in?" I dropped some bills on the entrance and entered with Megumi. Inside was quite dark and filled with mirrors making it quite confusing and scary but Megumi actually seems to enjoy it just when she was about to bumped into a mirror, I pulled

A proper spelling of the light and the hidden scripts rendered anyone's reflection invisible while maintaining the effect for the rest of Tirria's structure. Lady Lucia had seen such similar magic at the Underground Creep, Rage's home. Rage had a dark unique power that kept a person from physically moving through matter, thus creating the illusion of a loop, when it, indeed, had not truly changed at all. At Tirria, the loop was literal. The mirrors - while physical - lost tangibility, and flowed across one's skin like oil when it was passed through. A step through one of the hidden mirrors transported the unwary to the hall again, and if ignorant to the trick, allowed one to wander in the sa

The reflection lunged forward. Logan reacted fast, summoning a protective spell with a flick of his wrist. A shimmering barrier appeared between them and the creature, causing it to hiss in frustration. “Anna, what the hell is that?” Ryan demanded. Anna’s heart pounded. “It’s me,” she whispered. “But not me.” The reflection smirked. Then, with a chilling laugh, it vanished back into the mirror—leaving behind only a single word scratched into the glass. Midnight.

The last one… was Elara. Mira stepped forward, and the reflection moved with her. “You’re not me,” she said. The Elara-mirror smirked. “No. I’m what’s left of who you tried to bury.” Mira clenched her fists. “I buried her for a reason.” “She’s not gone,” the reflection said. “You absorbed her. You wear her bones.” Suddenly, the mirror cracked—from the inside. Black static spilled out. And Mira woke up screaming. Carl was at her side in seconds. “What is it?”

There was something maternal about the way she interacted with Elara, a gentle presence that had become a source of comfort over the years. As they walked through the gallery, Miriam’s attention was drawn to a small painting tucked away in a corner—a piece Elara had painted herself. It was abstract, filled with sweeping strokes of deep blues and vibrant oranges, representing the emotional turmoil Elara had experienced during her battle with Cassia and her journey toward healing. Miriam paused in front of the painting, her gaze thoughtful. “This piece,” she said softly, “it feels so personal. Like a reflection of everything you’ve been through.”