Ruined Novels & Stories

Author’s note: Ruined(Eternal Monarch) contains details of the following subjects: Abuse, loss, trauma, suicide. Recovery from trauma and emotional relapse. If you are easily triggered by any of the following mentioned subjects. Do not read ahead for your mental health. Throughout the novel, there are a lot of strong languages. If you are not comfortable with all the foregoing, please do not enter. This is not a novel for the faint of heart. There are numerous triggers in the book.

His thoughts raced, and he muttered to himself, "If those were the little things, what on earth are the main things?" O'Malley didn’t miss a beat. He turned and pointed to the screen behind him, where a rough, incomplete layout of the ruins came into focus. Danial and the others leaned forward, studying the details closely. A portion of the ruins, notably the sections leading deeper underground, appeared blurred and distorted, almost as if the scan had hit an invisible wall.

Randall asked, holding him but he slammed his hand down. “Fuck! Fuck!” Cursing, tears glistening in his eyes, feeling utterly powerless. Hating himself for not using his cognition before. “Tristan, please don’t scare us. Tell us what the hell is happening.” Ruth called, worried to find Tristan broke like this. Sniffling, he looked back at Katastrofi, wiping his eyes, explaining with trembling lips. “Before us is… Katastrofi the Destroyer... Our one young mistake brought him to this world. I told you guys to not go there! I told you it’s dangerous. We are doomed now!” He yelled at them with a tear rolling down.

Never defeated. The chamber no longer looked like a chamber. It looked like a battlefield after the losing side had prayed too late. Broken timber lay scattered across the floor. Stone dust drifted through the air in pale sheets. The torn curtains burned in slow ribbons, sending black smoke upward in twisting columns like prayers denied entry through the gates of Heaven. The bed sat at the centre of the ruin, half-stripped, one post cracked, the mattress torn where one of his claws had raked through it during the storm.

I leaned against my car, unbothered “what does that have to do with me, I don’t work for you remember?.” “This isn’t the time for games Clarissa.” I laughed softly. “ you think i have time to play games with you, I’m too busy for that Blake, please don’t call me again” i said and ended the call. A few seconds later, the phone rang again, I picked. But this time his voice was lower, almost like he was pleading. “Please this is important Clarissa, the company is on the verge of bankruptcy, I’m loosing everything Clarissa, everything we built, I’m sorry I kicked you out, but I really need your help right now.”

The night air inside the ruined safe house was suffocating. The metallic scent of blood clung to the walls, seeping into everything like a sickness that refused to fade. The once-secure hideout was now a battlefield marked by bullet holes, shattered glass, and bodies left as a warning. The dim lighting flickered overhead, casting eerie shadows across the destruction.

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.

The dawn broke like a pale promise, casting weak light over the shattered landscape that stretched before them. The Ruins of Eldara, a sprawling city once the heart of an ancient kingdom, lay hidden beneath layers of ash and forgotten memories. Its towering spires and crumbled walls, swallowed by time and neglect, rose like ghostly sentinels, watching over the land like silent witnesses.

The city that had once shimmered like gold in the morning light now lay draped in ash and dust, its grandeur reduced to piles of ruin that whispered of laughter long vanished. Elara Flameborne stood atop the crumbling eastern wall, the wind tugging at her cloak’s singed hem. Below her, the spires lay fractured, their once-proud stones jagged against a bruised sky. Temple roofs had caved in, leaving altars exposed to rain and ruin. Gardens that once bloomed with every shade of flower now smoked in tangled vines of charred ivy. Statues, heroes and gods alike were decapitated, their heads rolled among debris stained with dust and blood. Shards of crimson glass, ripped from cathedral windows, gl

“Bad enough that I can’t think straight most days. Bad enough that I feel guilty every time Chloe smiles at me. Bad enough that when Julian looks at me I want to disappear.” Dominic was quiet for a moment. “I hate that he’s using you to get to me.” “He’s using both of us.” “I know.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I’ve spent years being careful. Controlled. Then you show up again, and all of that starts cracking. I don’t know how to put it back together.” “Do you want to put it back together?” The question hung in the air. He looked at me for a long time. “No. That’s the problem. I don’t. I want you. Even with everything at stake.”