Ruined 2 Novels & Stories

The disposable spare. The discarded omega. They were two sides of the same tarnished coin, both deemed unworthy, both cast aside by the same cruel family, the same brutal pack ideology. Kael had been the prized heir, the perfect Alpha. Caius, his identical reflection, had been deemed a surplus, a threat, a ghost to be erased. She had been the perfect Luna, cherished and paraded, until the moment she wasn’t, and then she too was discarded like trash.

I could hear his anguished cries from my end. "Nancy, I'm begging you! Please save me. For old times' sake, please just save me!" he wailed. My expression remained unchanged. "Shaun, my hand is ruined. I can no longer hold a scalpel. You're the one who left me there for an entire afternoon. Have you forgotten about that?" There was dead silence on the other end. After a long pause, he abruptly hung up. He never expected that he would ultimately reap what he sowed in the most tragic way possible. If he was lucky, he might have three months. With proper care, he could live over a year with the kind of cancer that he had.

Raul’s strained voice echoed relentlessly. His painful wincing had me jerking off the ground with wide eyes. Fuck. A huge piece of the collapsed wall had crashed onto his leg. "Jesus, Raul." A pained grunt escaped me as I forced myself up. "Look at that, Ginevra, it seems they figured out your game play." Raul chuckled, a loud grunt erupting in the back of his throat. "They're assholes, Raul, but now is not the time to talk about that." I choked.

And there Ruin goes, making me forget about my problems, if only for a second. *** Sitting in the back seat of the SUV, the memories of the afternoon in the meadow bring a smile to my face. Ruin, with his rough exterior and gentle heart, had a way of making me forget the world, forget the anxieties that lay waiting back at home. The warmth of the sun, the gentle breeze, his laughter mixing with mine—it was a respite I didn’t know I needed.

⁠ Not yet. I push up on one elbow. My hands are‌ bleeding, skin torn, nai‌ls black with soot. My jacket’s half-burned‍, my body shaking. I t‌ake invent‌ory slowly:‍ shoulder dislocated, rib⁠s b‌ruised — may⁠be cracked —‌ but not⁠hin‌g f‍atal. Not yet.‌ Then the s‌ilence breaks. A sound filters through the ruins — fa‌int, distant, unmist‍akab⁠le.

Images flashed in her mind—flickering lights, jagged landscapes, and an overwhelming sense of urgency. “There’s another fracture,” she said, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of sensations. “But it’s... different. It’s not forming. It’s already there, waiting.” Crane leaned forward, his expression tense. “Do you know where?” Emma opened her eyes, the glow of the key reflected in their depths. “The ruins. Near the eastern ridge.” Vivienne’s smirk faded, replaced by a frown. “The ruins? That place is a labyrinth. If the force is setting a trap, that’s exactly where it would do it.”

Chapter 21 Hunters’ bodies littered the cracked concrete, weapons scattered like broken bones among the fallen. Iron Fang riders staggered through the wreckage, bloodied, hollow-eyed with their leather cuts torn and spattered. The roar of engines had gone silent, replaced by the crackle of fire devouring a wrecked van at the edge of the lot. But all eyes weren’t on the carnage. They were on her. Raven stood in the center of the ruined garage, chains hanging broken at her feet, her body no longer her own.

Crown Prince Raul’s Point of View Not finding Zela within the sprawling, ruined mansion of Nerville plunged me into an abyss of intense despair. The barren, ravaged rooms screamed of her absence, each splintered beam and shattered window a testament to her not being there. It had been impossible to control Slade, my wolf, he had unleashed an unbridled fury, tearing through the structure, reducing everything in his path to splinters and dust. The sheer scale of the destruction in the building amounted to millions in damage.

MAYA The house was too quiet. It had been six months since the metal of the car crumpled like paper. Six months since the world I built out of lies fell apart in a spray of shattered glass and screaming tires. I was the one who survived. I was the one who woke up from the coma. But sometimes, when I look at the empty space in our bed or the way Liam looks at his phone, I think the wrong person died that night.

The butt of his training spear jabbed into my ribs and I choked back a groan. “I said....” “I’m up,” I croaked, finally speaking aloud. That shut them up for a second. “You spoke,” Daren said, narrowing his eyes towards me, “So she can speak.” “Say something else,” another dared. I said nothing. “Back to mute, I guess we imagined it.” “She’s a puppet,” Riko added, “Dead eyes and a mouth that barely works.” They left me there in the cold, mud-caked and shaking. ************************************