Shattered Series Novels & Stories

It’s hurting. “Come and take it.” She holds it out to me, but the moment I take a step forward to grab it, she lifts the frame high up and lets it free fall to the floor. I watch my entire world shatter into pieces against the hard tiled floor together with the only beautiful thing I had left of my family. The glasses of the frame fly all over the place and our broken smiles on the picture lay miserable on the floor. Tears blur my eyes as I look from the shattered frame to Rhea and her wicked laugh tips me over the edge. Wrath spreads through my limbs like larva.

He slammed into me hard and wild with no mercy or warning just going straight in expanding me to my limit as I tried to accommodate his monster. I gasped. I shivered. I cried. Tears slipped down the side of my eyes smearing fresh mascara stain on me “This is what you wanted right?” He asked as he slammed in again.

When I looked up, the car was already speeding off, and neither Silas nor Edgar bothered to look back. The two people who'd always been there for me were gone in the end. When I finally came around, I was in the hospital. I probably wouldn't have made it if it weren't for a kind passerby who helped me out. My foggy mind cleared the second I opened my eyes. The forever I used to believe in was just a fantasy. Since they'd already broken our promise to stick together for life, I didn't need to hold on to it anymore. … During the three days I was in the hospital, Silas and Edgar sent a ton of texts and made endless calls, but I ignored every single one.

He can’t even find a shoulder when he’s shattered, when he’s mourning. “I’m sorry," I said again, fighting back my tears… He frowns harder. “What the hell are you sorry for?” “For not seeing any of this before today.” I point at the bottles, at the frame, at him, but my hand feels slow, like it’s moving through water. “You look like complete shit, Steve. Not the normal tough-guy look you always have when you’re trying to scare people or fuck me. The real broken kind of shit.

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 scream. The shard comes free. The spire collapses.

The foundation of love she had built her life upon had crumbled, leaving her to navigate the fragments of her once-cherished relationships with a wounded spirit and a mind overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. Riya's heart, once whole and vibrant, now lay shattered into innumerable fragments, each piece representing the trust she once held for others. It seemed as if the very foundation of her existence had crumbled, leaving her adrift in a sea of despair. Waves of anguish washed over her as the stark reality of her pathetic life took hold. No respite could be found from the relentless tears that streamed down her face, a reflection of the overwhelming pain that consumed her.

He paused, watching her closely, as if weighing whether or not she'd bolt. "So I pushed you away. I told myself I was protecting you, but really, I was protecting myself. From being revealed. From being open. From letting anyone know how fucking scared I was." A breath stuck in Isla's throat. Her fingers tightened around her cup. Killian continued, his voice softer now. "I thought that control was the only thing that prevented me from shattering. That if I just controlled everything—my business, my relationships, even you—I would never shatter. But I was wrong. I lost you, and I shattered."

I made sure they paid—in the cruelest, most humiliating way possible. I tore my father’s company apart, crushed his legacy, and gathered allies who wanted him ruined just as much as I did. And just when I thought I had nothing left to lose, I found my fiancée in bed with my half-brother, Gregory. Chanel had been the last illusion I had about love. And when that illusion shattered, I stopped believing in anything. I swore off women. I lived recklessly, throwing myself into work, into power, into winning.

The Triarchs were right—we don't have much time. We swim toward the temple's entrance, and the doors—massive things made of some dark metal—swing open at our approach. As if we're expected. As if something wants us to enter. The interior is vast and echoing, filled with that same diffuse light. Murals cover the walls, depicting scenes from before the Shattering—the Mother deity whole and radiant, her children gathered around her, a world of peace and beauty. And then the war. The Shattering. The Mother torn apart, her fragments becoming the gods we know now. And at the center of it all, a single figure—neither god nor mortal, but something in between—falling into the abyss.