Shattered Glass Novel Novels & Stories

Today, it felt like standing on glass that could crack at any second. I stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city stretching endlessly beneath me, and felt nothing but pressure building behind my ribs, tight and constant, like something waiting to snap. The crystal tumbler in my hand dug into my palm as I tightened my grip without realizing it, the amber liquid sloshing over the rim and staining the crisp white cuff of my shirt. I didn’t care. The thought barely registered before I turned and hurled the glass across the room. It shattered against the opposite wall, shards scattering across the Persian rug along with the expensive scotch.

Chapter Twenty-Two Alpha Lir POV The glass doesn’t shatter—it just breaks apart in my hand. One second I’m holding a crystal tumbler of aged scotch, the next my palm is burning, filled with red cuts and sharp, glittering pieces. I don't flinch. I don't even feel the sting. "Lir, your hand."

Then a layer where the water is perfectly black, absorbing all illumination except the faint glow of our ship. And then, suddenly, we're through. The water here is different—still glowing, but with a softer, more diffuse light that comes from everywhere and nowhere. And in the distance, I can see structures. Ruins. Massive ruins that seem to float in the water, defying gravity and logic. Pillars of white stone covered in barnacles of light. Archways that lead to nowhere. Statues of beings that might be gods or monsters or something in between. "The old world," I breathe. "This is what existed before the Shattering."

"You are nothing. You were born from death, and death is all you'll bring." Those words have followed Zara Cole every single day of her seventeen years alive. Her mother died bringing her into the world, and her father - the Beta of Ironveil Pack - never let her forget it. While her brother trains to inherit their father's title, Zara trains in the dark. Alone. Unseen. Better than all of them. She is the top student. The fastest warrior. The girl nobody looks at twice. Until the day everything changes. When a transfer student named Mira walks into the pack training and decides - for reasons Zara cannot explain that she wants to be her friend, the walls Zara built brick by

Odd things that reminded me of a voodoo parlor. I didn’t touch any of those. No, what drew me in was a book at the far end. It was almost as if the book itself was calling my name, leading me towards it. I was a moth to a flame. By the time I stood right in front of it, I realized that the book was encased in glass. Curiously, I touched the glass, hoping I would find a way to open it but the second my skin made a contact, the glass shattered. Ryker who had been standing beside me quickly pulled me back. “What the bloody hell is that?”

It tipped over, shattering into a thousand glinting shards. “Fucking hell,” I muttered. The sharp pain registered too late. I looked down, my palm smeared red, glass embedded in the flesh. The pain barely registered. It was nothing compared to the firestorm inside me. I sank back, the weight of fatigue and anger pulling me down. My vision hazed a little, a mix of alcohol and sleep deprivation. The broken glass twinkled on the floor like a sick mosaic of my life—sharp, perilous, and waiting to cut anyone who drew near.

Shattered glass. The world turned white. -

I kicked it so hard it collapsed sideways, books scattering like fallen leaves. The full-length mirror? I hurled a decorative crystal at it, watching with sick satisfaction as cracks spiderwebbed across the glass until it shattered completely. But none of the things he gave me ended up on the ground. None. As if a part of me was silently protecting them. I sank to the ground, where shards of glass decorated the floor like twisted flowers in a cursed garden. A few pierced my fingers, but I didn’t give a damn. Let it hurt. It wouldn’t kill me.

She reached for the glass of wine that had been a source of solace, her hand trembling. With a forceful motion, Isabella hurled the glass towards the wall, a primal scream escaping her lips as the glass shattered into countless shards, scattering across the office floor like a constellation of broken dreams. The room echoed with the sound of destruction, a reflection of Isabella's shattered hopes and her own internal turmoil.

I mutter. The mirror pulses a violent red. The heating elements are failing, the glass spider-webbing under the thermal stress. C-O-M-P-R-O-M-I-S-E-D. One final sentence scrolls across the bottom before the glass shatters into a thousand glittery shards. O-N-E G-U-A-R-D I-S N-O-T H-I-S. I drop to a crouch as the glass rains down. I don't feel the shallow cuts on my shoulders. I'm staring at the empty frame.