Shattered Dream Sans Mga Nobela at Kwento

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.

No sound. Horror broke out. I stretched up and reached for my throat, wires digging at my skin, tubes catching at my arms. Bandages caught at my fingertips—thick and rough and constricting. I was startled to discover that something was wrong. Something is seriously, seriously wrong. From the other side of the room, a nurse whispered, "Adrian," but her eyes quickly averted as though she couldn't keep staring into mine. She pressed a button and spoke softly to summon a doctor. I tried to sit up, but the pain was sharp and constant. My body felt heavy and alien. Looking at the steel mirror that was affixed to the wall made me feel nauseous. The face of a stranger holding a mirror greeted me. Th

arrogant, cruel, dangerous. Yet my heart ache for him in ways I don’t understand. I turn over, clutching the pillow. When I finally drift off, it isn’t peace that meets me. The dream returns, this time Misha is with me in the fire screaming and tearing me apart…. Fire Screams Blood Fire Screams Blood Over and Over again.

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.”

Reality shattered. The fragments in her hands exploded into searing white light. Her body burned. Her thoughts fractured. Her scream tore the collapsing world open. And then— Everything went silent. Pitch-black. Lifeless. Still. A single white pulse glowed in the dark. Another. Another. Then— Nathan’s voice, weak but real: “Alina… where are you…?” She reached toward the sound— But her hand… wasn’t solid. She looked down. Her body was dissolving into code.

CHAPTER 13 – THE SHATTERED ILLUSION Althea’s POV “Stop shaking,” I whispered to myself. But my hands wouldn’t listen. The photograph lay on my lap innocent, harmless, and at the same time the most horrifying thing I had ever seen. Damian. Darius. Side by side. Same face. Same eyes. Same jawline. But only one of them had the tiny, faint scar at the corner of his right eyebrow. And it wasn’t Damian.

"Ella, don't frame me like that! Even if I had heavenly powers, I couldn't change your baby's eye color. In the end, it was your own foolishness—and now you've dragged the entire Witches' Covenant into disgrace!" My sister nearly fainted with fury. She had endured pregnancy and unspeakable suffering, all for the chance to become queen after giving birth. Now her dream was shattered, her scandal laid bare before the world. Seeing the murderous intent blazing in the prince's eyes, she dropped to her knees. "For the sake of what we once shared… please, let me go!" If she were still the enchanting beauty she once was, the prince might have wavered. But the withered creature before him now made h