Shattered Dawn Novels & Stories

Shards of glass flew in each direction. One of the shards cut Whitney on the back of her hand, leaving behind a streak of blood. She moaned in pain and covered her wound. Still, she didn't respond to my statement. All she did was watch me silently. "Feel better?" she asked, casually wiping off the blood. She continued, "If doing that helped you feel better, smash all the glasses you like. It's my fault you're upset."

--- Dawn came to me that night. "The followers who came south—they are learning. Slowly. But they are." "Will they stay?" "Some will. Some will not. But they know the door is open." "Like you did." She nodded. "Like I did." --- That night, I wrote in my journal. The void shard is destroyed. Nox absorbed it. He is present. Whole. Alive. The followers are scattered. Some came south. Dawn is learning. The Circle is strong. Dax is holding me.

“They’re right, all of them. We’re your anchors, but you’re ours too.” My heart squeezes. “I still don’t understand what I’m supposed to do,” I say. “What my… power is for.” Ronnie leans forward, tapping the page with his finger. “Dawn is not destruction,” he says softly. “Dawn is renewal. Light after dark. Truth after illusion. Healing after corruption.” I think of the nine wolves, hollow-eyed and broken, then rising with new breaths. I think of the hunters fleeing. I think of the surge that nearly tore me apart.

Ash still drifted in the air like black snow, settling over ruins that had once been Dawnspire’s proud walls. Serenya’s lungs burned with smoke and power as she struggled to hold herself aloft. Her new wings—woven of starlight and fire—shivered with exhaustion, dimming at the edges. Below, Thalric’s broken crown lay in shards, but the man himself rose from the ashes, alive, his form cloaked in a new and terrible shadow.

And the night shattered open. To be continued…

“And you’ll get us all killed if you can’t keep pace.” The words stung like a blade because they were true. But I tightened my grip anyway, dragging the kid forward. “They stay with me.” Kaia stared a moment longer, then turned, snow crunching under her boots. --- Dawn When dawn finally broke, it was cruel. Pale light spilt over the trees, silver instead of gold, revealing everything sharp instead of soft. We stumbled into a hollow between rocks, shielded from the worst of the wind. Asher dropped first, sinking into the snow, his chest heaving. Kaia leaned against the stone, blade still in her hand, eyes never closing.

“That’s right. Keep fighting. You know I don’t mind hurting you. You’re nothing but some dirty whore who can’t even fuck right.” I can’t scream because of his hands. I can’t fight because of his weight. I can’t do anything to stop him. Maybe, just maybe, this time he’ll kill me, and it will be over. No, I can’t let him win. I bite down on his hands hard, and he pulls back. “HELP, HELP. SOMEBODY HELP ME. HELP ME! “SAM, WAKE UP.” Somebody’s shaking me, but I can’t escape.

Chapter Sixty-Two: Dawn The Dawn was quiet. For the first time in weeks, the sky was clear, pale gold light touching the snow, washing the bloodstained ground in a fragile promise of warmth. Shadowstorm moved through the aftermath with quiet reverence, warriors carrying the bodies of the fallen to the pyre built beyond the treeline, where the snow had been cleared for the farewell. Raven stood before the fire, Shadow and nightfire calm beneath her skin, wrapping her in a quiet strength.

Damian’s POV Dawn, when it finally came, was the kind that crept—not the dramatic sluice of gold you see in paintings, but the shy, reluctant light of winter. A nearly imperceptible shift: shadows thinning over hardwood, pale blue leaking across the city’s spires, as if the world, too, tiptoed for fear of disturbing her.

A group of girls cheered, and someone called his name like they were waiting for him to wave. I felt like I was watching a movie I didn’t belong in. The sun was starting to drop lower. The sky looked calm, soft orange melting into pale blue. The wind wasn’t strong, but it kept brushing past my arms like it was trying to check if I was okay. Even the trees weren’t dancing much—just standing there, quietly listening. From the corner of my eye, I saw Sara still standing, brushing invisible dust off her skirt. She looked up. Our eyes met.