The Begginning After The End Novels & Stories

I had finally changed my fate completely in this life. As I walked out of the bureau, sunlight poured over me. It was warm and gentle. Wynnie followed behind me numbly. Just as I was about to get into a taxi, she suddenly called out, “Miles, do we still have a chance to start over?” I did not even turn around. I only replied in a cold voice, “I’m not someone who stoops to that level, so don’t humiliate yourself in front of me. From now on, we’re strangers.”

Behind him The world remained still. No movement, No sound, No life, Only ash, Only ice, Only memory. And somewhere in that silence. A question lingered. Not spoken, Not answered. But waiting. What comes after the end? The wind returned slowly. Carrying ash across the frozen ground. And far in the distance Something shifted. So small it could have been nothing. Or everything. The scorched earth was quiet. But it was not empty. Not yet.

"Freya, this is all fake, isn’t it? He isn’t your mate. You just found someone to provoke me. Right?" I frowned faintly and replied evenly, "Raelor, know your place. Whoever I choose as my future mate has nothing to do with you. Half a year ago, we ended everything." Lyndra let out a cold laugh from her seat. "You’re the one who drove her away. What are you clinging to now?" Raelor seemed not to hear. He stepped closer, his eyes locked on me. "I’ve ended things with Seraphine. I’ve dealt with her. Freya… Give me another chance."

He thought: some things are better known than said. He thought: and some things are better said. "It's grown," he said. Adrian looked at him. "The music hasn't changed," he said. "No," Daniel said. "We have." Adrian held his gaze. The warmth — the long, open, entirely reliable warmth that was the structure of the thing and the beauty of the thing and had not changed and had grown. "Yes," he said. "The final phrase," Daniel said. "In October of the sixth year it was the beginning of what comes after. In March of the eighth year it is the beginning of what comes after that has already begun." He paused. "The beginning is further along."

after Corvyn Ashte. I think about after. I think about what it looks like when the thing that has been hunting you since you were seventeen years old is finished. I think about a table full of people. A bakery with a step. A window seat that became mine. I think about Eli on the porch with his hand raised. I think about "what do we do" like it was already shared. I think that after is not an ending. It is a beginning shaped like an ending and I have been building toward it since a wrong elevator floor and a wolf who bowed before I saw a face and I am almost there.

Orion stepped between them. “Don’t.” The End’s eyes glowed silver. “You carry the memory of every death.” Then he looked at the little girl. “And you carry the memory of every beginning.” The little girl stared at him. “What does that mean?” The End smiled. “Together, you can create something I cannot destroy.” Lucian’s eyes narrowed. “What?” The End whispered: “An ending that chooses not to end.” Silence. Then the little girl stepped forward. Lucian grabbed her arm.

Something that felt, in spite of everything, like the beginning of something rather than the continuation of something else. The beginning of an after that had a name.

"Yes, Luke. I'm throwing you away now. From now on, you can stay exactly where you belong and spend the rest of your life regretting how you betrayed me and destroyed everything." "No, Bianca! You can't do this to me! Come back!" He cried out desperately and slammed his hands against the glass. The guards immediately restrained him. I stood, smoothed the wrinkles from my shirt, then turned and walked away without looking back. Outside, the sunlight was almost blinding. I looked up. Clouds drifted slowly across the blue sky. Ramond was dead, and Luke's life was destroyed. Their so-called happy family of three had been nothing more than an illusion built on lies and betrayal.

I had endured because Dante held my hand and told me there would be a life after all of it. Now that life had finally come, he wanted me to hide it. “If you truly love me,” I said, “why is my child the one who has to disappear?” Dante’s expression darkened. “Don’t make it sound like that.” “But that is what you’re doing.” A few guards and staff members had started looking toward the office. Dante noticed and lowered his voice. “We’ll talk at home.” He guided me out through the private elevator. Serena followed us without being asked.

And from the grief left behind— The End was born. The memory vanished. Emma fell to her knees. Tears streamed down her face. Not her tears. Their tears. The Mother's. The Father's. The End's. All at once. --- The man knelt before her. His eyes were full of pain. "I searched for you." The End became silent. Listening. The Father continued. "Across realities." A pause. "Across time." Another. "Across existence itself." His voice cracked. And suddenly he didn't look like a god.