Shattered Dream Sans Novels & Stories

"What! Vivian, how could you do this to me? You promised me." He said it with a tinge of sadness in his tone. “Did you ever love me? I did everything I could to make you love me, but you didn’t care about my feelings. Now you are crippled with nothing, and you expect me to be with a cripple who has nothing to show? Ha! Dream on. It was never going to happen. She scoffed. " Even though I didn't love you, I never treated you baldly." Benjamin replied.

The entire night was filled with surreal and fragmented dreams—none of them forming a coherent story. In one of the dreams, Miranda cradled a chubby, smiling baby in her arms. Behind her stood a tall, gentle man, softly encircling her waist, quietly reminding her to watch her step. But when she turned to look at him, he vanished. All that remained was an endless field of wild grass, stretching as far as her eyes could see. No trace of the man, no one to turn to.

The vision tore itself from me like shattered glass, leaving my body trembling as though I had walked through fire and come out half-burned. The chamber blurred before my eyes, and only the sound of Damian’s voice anchored me, ragged and desperate as he caught me before I could collapse. His scent wrapped around me, grounding and dangerous all at once, but the shard was still there, pulsing inside my chest like a living wound. Its hunger whispered, clawing at the edges of my soul, but this time it wasn’t only my blood it reached for.

After a few seconds of looking around and the sights of her sleeping mate beside her made her calm but worried since whatever had happened in her vision wasn't reality yet In her vision she had seen a pure heart of diamond which was so full of life, compassion and love but then the scene changed to show a dark mist hovering over the heart, it was scary, the heart emits a bright light, bright enough to blind anyone but in the end it shatters into a million pieces successful getting rid of the foul mist but at the expense of being shattered.

All the things I used to look forward to now cut deep into my heart. I quietly slipped into the shadows at the edge of the room without anyone noticing. My whole body was tense, but the tears kept falling despite how disgraceful it was. My chest ached as if it had been torn open. I pulled out my phone and sent my boss a message. "Something urgent came up. I'm leaving early." I got in the car, my mind blank. Suddenly, I remembered what the doctor had said and patted my chest, whispering to myself. "Don't cry… The doctor said I can't have any strong emotions… No crying…"

Big intimidating man looked like he was ready to shoot his head off if he heard another second of it. One of the three seemed like the more calm one. He was still looking like a lunatic. But a calmer lunatic. He had the same ice blue eyes as Luciano. His dark hair was slicked back and he seemed pretty muscular. He looked like he had gears turning in his head at all times, always thinking. I'm calling him... calm lunatic.

Santana The morning light shines down on my face from the small window above my bed. Not wanting to get up, I place the pillow over my face and close my eyes. I feel worn and exhausted, which makes sense since I barely slept. When I did sleep, I dreamt of him. The dreams were pretty intense. I bite my lip, recalling a specific dream. Declan and I were in bed kissing. He was caressing my bare back as his muscled body wrapped around mine. Unfortunately, as soon as I woke up, reality set in. He’s Connor’s brother. Either way, it’s a pipe dream considering he doesn’t want anything to do with his brother─ his own blood relative.

Damian moved to my right, every inch of him prepared to tear reality apart if needed. And me? I stepped forward. One more inch. Another breath. Then I pressed my palm against the shimmering fracture. A ripple of light spread out from the point of contact. The crack widened soundlessly, swallowing the air in a rush of color and cold and unfiltered possibility. For a heartbeat, I saw something through it—eyes too old and too young, watching me with a mix of hope and terror. Then everything shattered into blinding white, and the world fell away. We were pulled into the crack, into the realm behind it—

Breaking her legs was from her past life, and he knew. Apparently, he had been reborn, too. That was why he could pull her out of harm's way just in time when the truck came, changing the outcome of her past life. "So, you're reborn, too?" she asked. He sighed, but his expression didn't soften. "This time, let's both move on." He turned to leave without another word. That night, Lillian walked home alone. When she tried her fingerprint to unlock the door, it failed.

Without Pact sanction. It would look dangerously close to rebellion. And the last one hadn’t ended kindly. That night, Siran dreamed. She stood in a vast bloomfield that did not exist on any map. No ridges. No trees. Just a flat silver plain under an eternal dusk sky. Across from her stood a figure made of thread and voice not fully human, not entirely spirit. “Liraeth,” Siran whispered. The figure tilted its head. “Not quite,” it answered. “But close. I am her remembrance, her intention, her thread left behind.”