Shattered Lines Novels & Stories

Then I raised my voice, “Wait—I can’t find my own test script.” The guy I shared the stack with rolled his eyes. “You passed it twice,” he said, tossing the remaining booklet into my hands. “Maybe you were looking for it by the score.” “What?!” I flipped through frantically. Lola came over just as I found it and tried to peek. I quickly closed the page. Sara walked over, trying to see what I got. As I turned the paper, I accidentally hit her face. She gasped. “Oh my God—are you okay?” I asked, taken aback. “I didn’t mean to hit you that hard.”

I say, before rereading the prophecy. When the flower of spring Eases the pain of night She will begin to heal He who is broken "Okay, that part makes sense. Although, similar to what GoldMoon told us, the word ‘broken’ isn’t exactly accurate. Dominic isn't broken, he was abused and scarred.” “It’s semantics, Princess, just like with the Blessing of the Ceryneian Hind, or as we now call it, The Gift of the Ceryneian Hind, Dominic is described as broken. Maybe the prophecy used that word because he can’t shift.”

The strength drained from her like water escaping a broken jar. Tiana leaned closer, her lips curving into a small, measured smile. “You can be kind in this moment, Sarah. Or you can destroy yourself holding onto what no longer belongs to you.” Her voice was the last thing Sarah heard as the ground tilted beneath her. Her eyes fluttered shut as the café spanned into darkness. The slip of paper with its two red lines lay on the table, silent and undeniable, as Sarah collapsed into the shadows of her breaking point.

Holding them steady. Holding me steady. Always. “Zara,” he called. I didn’t look back. “I’ve got them,” he said. I believed him. Without question. Without hesitation. So I focused forward. On the crack. On the thing behind it. On the intent pressing through. The fracture burst open. Not like a tear. Not like a portal. It shattered. Reality splintering outward like glass as something forced its way through with brutal, unapologetic force. A massive form slammed halfway into our world and stuck.

“They used him! They killed him and called it sacred! I saw it–I saw–and they said I was the threat?!” His silence is absolute. The air thickens with unspoken tension, my chest heaving with the weight of injustice. Tears prick my eyes and I feel my body start to shake–not from fear, but from the force of my memory. It’s coming back in pieces, falling like jagged glass–too sharp to hold, too dangerous to ignore. “There was a name,” I whisper. “His name was–” A sharp crack rings through the air. Pain. Sudden. Blinding.

I could feel her getting closer, her walls fluttering around my fingers, her thighs locking around my head like she never wanted to let me go. "That’s it," I snarled against her, my voice muffled by her flesh. "Come on my tongue and cover my fingers like the filthy little whore you are." And she shattered. Her back bowed off the bed, a relentless string of moans tearing from her throat as her pussy pulsed around my fingers, her release flooding my mouth. I lapped up every drop, groaning like a man who’d just found ambrosia, my cock aching, demanding to be inside her. I wasn’t done. Not even close. I crawled up her body, my lips crashing against hers again, letting her taste herself on my ton

Chapter 97 – The Book She Wrote The house was quiet again, but this time it was the kind of quiet that hummed with purpose. The kind of quiet that filled the room with possibilities rather than emptiness. I sat at my desk, pen in hand, notebook open, staring at the blank page for a long time before writing the first words. “Shattered Vows,” I whispered to myself. The title alone made my chest tighten, a reminder of everything I had lived through—the love, the lies, the heartbreak, the forgiveness, and the slow, painstaking rebuilding of myself.

And now I am standing in the wreckage of that loyalty, watching her try to rewrite it. She steps forward, her eyes wide, her mouth trembling. “Fiona, you have it all wrong. It’s not what you think~” I laugh. It’s a brittle, hollow sound that feels like glass cracking in my throat. “Why do people always say that? Every damn fucking time. First Edward, now you. You always say it’s not what I think, when it’s exactly what I think. It’s exactly what it looks like. You hurt me. You hurt our friend group. You shattered something that mattered.”

Was this the reason behind his cold behavior and the decision to get back at me by cheating with Trina? The next thing that shattered the lingering face was the sound of papers being thrown at me, hitting my face. Xaden's next words stopped my heart for a few seconds, leaving my entire body numb. "Sign those divorce papers, and get the fuck out of this office and out of my life. A slut like you isn't fit to be a Luna." My heart shattered into a million pieces, and before my eyes, my world crumbled. Everything I had worked hard to build seemed to go down the drain because of an allegation I never committed. Or was this some kind of dream I was in?

"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