Sword Of Rupture Novels & Stories

A loud thump rang through the air. Duran curled over in pain. His expression was creased with agony as the aura in him was shattered by the blow within seconds. The bloody sword disintegrated as well. Duran was incapacitated fully by the merciless attack.

“If they could not see what their own son was doing, how can we trust their judgment now?” Then another. “They declared Kellan disloyal for leaving. For loving a Bloodpine. But he brought truth back when no one else could.” Someone clapped. Just once. Then again. By the time I turned to see who it was, a small wave of pack members had followed suit, not to applaud, but to acknowledge. Ronan squeezed my hand tighter. It wasn’t victory. Not really. But it was a rupture. And in Runebound, rupture was how the truth came in.

"Jax." It came out the same way it had four years ago, it was soft, ruined, like a door coming off its hinges. He stilled completely for one second. His forehead dropped to mine. His eyes closed. His breath came uneven, shaky, and I realized with a lurching shock that I had just broken something open in him the same way he had always broken things open in me. His hand was still under my hoodie, palm pressed flat against my ribs, not moving, just holding on.

Viktor growled, his voice tight with pain. I didn't run. I stayed right there. The truth hit me harder than any strap or baton ever could. It wasn't just about getting out anymore. It wasn't just about staying alive. I didn't even know what was tearing through my chest, loyalty, love, or something else, but it was there, twisting deep. Viktor had kept me breathing, and now he was bleeding out for me. I grabbed the dropped rifle, checked the chamber like he'd shown me in the car, then pressed my back to his. Our shoulders bumped. Blood, sweat, pain. They all mixed together. It was everything.

I need my sword. Reaching behind my back, I feel the cool, smooth texture of my marking shift beneath my fingers. There’s a brief moment where the ink pulses, almost as if it’s alive, before it solidifies into the hilt of my sword. I draw it out, feeling the familiar weight settle into my hand. The blade hums with energy, a glowing blue that pulses in time with my heartbeat. This sword is mine, a part of me, born of my blood and soul. Athena’s gift, forged from my very essence.

For the stick Seth was holding on to wasn’t actually a stick, but the Dark Sword! Half its hilt was missing, and its blade had been reduced to the size of a rapier. It was because it was so greatly fractured that the dark domain around Zandor was flickering so. For the Dark Sword had almost been destroyed in that attack. In contrast to the broken figures of Seth and the Dark Sword, Ray looked hale and hearty. His avatar was no more due to the fact that Ray had exhausted most of his strength, but he was largely unharmed. Although he panted heavily and took many deep breaths, he had the upper hand here. He calmed his breathing and gathered the remnants of his power. He needed to keep the press

Andrius swung the hammer, each strike intercepting the sword energies. “This is the final sword.” Elder Frye’s eyes carried a smile of approval. “Skybreaker!” The moment he shouted, an aura that was even stronger than the sum of the previous sword energies suddenly descended. Crack! Crack, crack... Just as it appeared, the ground beneath Andrius cracked incessantly. Andrius took a deep breath and began to gather energy for his most powerful strike once again. Soon...

Raphael replied, "I do not plan to annihilate or conquer a race or anyone except Roosevelt, what I will do instead is forge an alliance between me and each race, just like the pact I want to propose to you, wolf." I demanded, "What pact exactly." He smirked, "Annihilating Roosevelt together, and serving me." Mars snapped, "You expect us to serve you? Who do you think you are?" Raphael gripped his sword, he looked seconds from unsheathing it, his fingers locked the hilt, I could witness frozen tendrils of mist bleeding out. "You nearly forced me to draw frostbite" So Raphael’s sword is called Frostbite Blade. The blade is long, straight, pale blue like glacier ice. It doesn’t shine. It drinks

Kaze reached his hand out to Hannah. Hannah paused for a second before realizing what Kaze was asking for. She hurled her broken sword over. Kaze took the broken sword and flicked his wrist. “Idiot!” Rio blew up. “You damn Arcadian! Are you looking down on me to fight with a broken sword?” “You’re right. I am looking down on you.” Kaze said aloofly, “A broken sword is enough to kill you.” “You asked for it!” Rio burst out in rage. “Swoosh!” Rio shot toward Kaze.

The sword clattered to the ground, and the world stopped. I stood between Stellan and Rourke, my hands bleeding, my body trembling, but my heart steady. Behind me, I heard Stellan rise—slowly, painfully, but rising. The Northern Lights blazed red overhead, painting the snow in shades of blood and fire. Rourke stared at me, his burning eyes narrowed. "You think one sword makes you a warrior? You think because you broke a dead man's bond, you're free?"