Shattered Glass Soundwave Novels & Stories

Declan’s POV I can still hear the sound. That crack of shattering glass, followed by the dull, sickening thud of flesh against metal. It replays in my head like some cursed song on loop, and no matter how hard I try to silence it, it always finds a way back into my skull.

“I didn't mean to hurt your feelings but was your mother werewolf or another supernatural….” Suddenly the music beats, the hubbub of the crowd and crazy movements on the dancefloor slowed down to pindrop silence as we heard the deep, sweet and long melody with a whistling sound, silencing the whole gallery. It was so intense that my ears started drumming painfully and the glass in my hand exploded itself and broke into tiny pieces taking my breath away. I counted the three second silence before the hell broke, the sounds of rattling of the glass materials, windows and even the fluttering of the colourful lights above the ceilings absorbed by the powerful melodies. It was like a full fledged

Crack. Shatter. Silence. Or maybe just to my ears.

Luna-Shadow's final word hangs in the crystalline air like a death knell, and then, everything collapses. The mirrors don't just crack; they scream. Each reflective surface ripples like disturbed water, distorting our faces into grotesque amalgamations of what we were, what we are, what we might become. The sound is unbearable—a symphony of breaking glass mixed with voices that bleed into one another until I can't tell where one Selene ends and another begins.

Every mountain, every drop of blood, every shard of Moonstone. If they found the exact pitch that matched the quartz lattice of my body, the dome wouldn't just break. I would shatter. Every loop of copper wire, every vein of gold static would explode outward as I turned into a cloud of dust. Ga-chi. Ga-chi. The sound of my own joints grinding against the sonic wave was deafening. My left arm, the solid bone-white wing of quartz, began to vibrate with a violent, high-frequency shudder. Then, the first leak started.

I staggered, clutching my head. The sound vibrated through my skull, disorienting me. It felt like it was draining something from me. I dropped to one knee, growling in agony. “Submit,” Mira whispered, stepping closer. The sound intensified, my vision blurred and my limbs felt heavy. I was slipping— And then something else rose inside me. Something I couldn't even name because I didn't know. My eyes snapped open. The sound wave fractured and shattered completely. Silence slammed down. Mira froze.

The sound of glass shattering echoed through the room, sharp and unforgiving. The water splashed across the floor, its clear liquid mingling with the spreading pool of blood that was quickly growing under Richard's feet. The impact of the glass breaking, hit him like a physical blow, forcing his mind to snap back into reality, but his body was Slow to respond. He could only stand there, frozen in place, his legs shaking beneath him, watching the scene unfold like it was a nightmare he couldn't wake from.

One footstep, two—my bare feet silent against the hardwood floor— The sound hit me like a gunshot. A loud, sharp thud, followed by the explosive shatter of glass that seemed to echo off every surface in the room, multiplying and amplifying until it felt like the air itself was breaking apart. I froze mid-step, my entire body going rigid, my head snapping toward the noise with whiplash intensity.

Then— Pain. White-hot and vicious, shooting up my arm like I’ve grabbed a live wire. My null-energy surges , not the controlled trickle I’ve been practicing, but a flood, crashing into the Fracture with the force of a tidal wave. The shard screams —a sound that isn’t sound, a vibration that shakes my bones. The echoes inside writhe. And then... stillness. The Fracture stops pulsing. The light stabilizes. The frozen grass unfurls one single blade—just one—before going still again.

His fist skimmed my shoulder, but I grabbed a chunk of broken wood from the crate behind me and swung it hard. Crack. Straight into Arnou’s arm as he lunged. He howled in pain, stumbling back. They all looked stunned, just for a second. That was enough. I slipped my hand into my coat pocket and twisted something small and sharp. Shriek. A high-pitched pulse ripped through the clearing like a banshee’s cry. The others dropped to their knees, howling in pain, hands clutching their ears and gritting their teeth. It was a tiny shard of sonic crystal. I’d borrowed it from Mira, tweaked it using leftover training tech, tuned it to hit frequencies only wolves could hear. One sharp twist and it woul