Novel & Cerita The Buried Giant

"A man of your standing, Lord Alaric... I can hardly imagine anyone being foolish enough to take anything from you. Or perhaps, you simply misplaced it." A tight, dangerous smile tugged at the corner of his lips. It wasn't a smile of warmth; it was the look of a predator who had finally cornered its prey and was enjoying the frantic struggle before the strike. "Oh, it wasn't misplaced. It was buried. Deep beneath the soil where everyone thought it would turn to dust. But the thing about bad seeds is that they always find a way to grow back towards the light, no matter how much dirt you throw over them." The breath caught in my throat. The metaphor was too precise, the delivery too deliberate

He reached into the murky water, then drew out a fragment of white bone. A moonstone ring still clung to the finger bone. I watched him cradle it in his hands, tracing the ring with his thumb, his shoulders trembling uncontrollably. "Juliette…" he uttered, his voice too hoarse to be heard. "Juliette, wake up." There was no response. He reached into the tub again, and this time, what he pulled stunned him completely. A tiny, curled cluster of bones, smaller than a fist, rested silently in his palm.

Then: "That's not a mountain." Everyone looked again. Carefully. Then they saw it. The truth. The Third Crown revealed it instantly. The "mountain" wasn't stone. Wasn't earth. Wasn't rock. It was a giant. An actual giant. A dead giant. Miles tall. Frozen in place. Its body had become part of the landscape. God. No. Fair. Absolutely not. Reasonable honestly. Then Ava stared. Then: "I hate this world." Honestly? Fair. Very fair.

The site had once served as a military water reserve, storing liquid silver bombs during the civil war, but it had long been abandoned. The seal had cracked open, revealing a woman's body. Rotting flesh was tangled in foul sludge, and the stench of decay was overwhelming. The police flooded the scene. Behind them came Dad, the werewolves' top officer, and my brother, the medical examiner. They assumed this was just another rogue attack. It never crossed their minds that the body might belong to their own daughter or sister. Floating above my lifeless body, I watched as my brother, Jacob Rosen, crouched down. He deftly shifted my shattered finger bones, pried open my jaw, and examined the str

"Still no bride apparently. Mother, the family's practically advertising now. I told you I'd never..." Her mother's look cut across the table. Sharp and fast. Her sister lifted her hands in a small surrender and picked up her phone again. Lila kept her eyes on her cup. Damien Blackthorn. The name had been circling for weeks... in the papers, in the careful way her parents sometimes left certain conversations when she entered the room, in her mother's habit of going quiet mid-sentence when certain topics surfaced. A reclusive heir. A wheelchair. A fortune that apparently made every other consideration negotiable.

I hadn't died. The thugs had counted on using me as a bargaining chip, but there was no way I was going to let that happen. They didn't start the fire—I did. At the far end of the warehouse, I found a hidden stash of explosives. I severed the ropes and let a candle fall onto the explosives. The blaze roared to life, and I disappeared into the turmoil at the South Pier. As for the necklace, I had deliberately handed it to a soldatessa, just to make her drop her guard.

For fifteen years, Maria Winston believed the Alpha family who adopted her was her true family. Then their biological daughter, Sera, returned–and everything changed. When Sera became involved in a serious crime, Maria was persuaded by her beloved adoptive brother, Callum, to take the blame. Believing it was her way of repaying the family who had raised her, Maria sacrificed her freedom. Instead of the light punishment she was promised, she was sentenced to two brutal years in a labor prison. No visits. No letters. No one came for her. When Maria finally returns, she discovers her family has already replaced her. Even her wolf has gone silent. Determined to leave them behin

I rushed over to take a look. The bloated, swollen body pulled from the water on the screen was indeed me! Staring at my pale, distorted corpse, I instinctively covered my mouth. Back when I was alive, I had always cared about my appearance more than anything. But now, my body was fished out of the river without even the dignity of something to cover me. And Jerome? He merely glanced at the video before scrolling past it to the next piece of news.

His eyes lit up as he listened and said, "I'll wait for you in the next life, Mommy!" I hugged him tightly. "I promise I'll find you there." The next day, I handed him over to the spirit guide who would take him to the next life. While holding the guide's hand, Toby kept turning back to wave goodbye to me. I watched him leave until he disappeared completely. It felt as though my heart had been hollowed out, leaving me indifferent to everything else. I followed Samuel numbly, watching him repeat the same routine every day. He went to a cemetery and selected three adjacent burial plots. The location was quite good as it was perched on a hill overlooking the city.

Suddenly, I felt dry clay and earth on my own palate, and spat it out in repulsion. "Look at our fingernails, Turry," Yolanda whispered quietly, so as not to offend the gods. We did: blood, dirt, bone, all under chalk white cracked nails. As if we had clawed our way out of the stony earth, a barrow mound as Ingvi meditated, erect, in utiseta, talking to the ancestors. "Yola, look," I shivered, pointing to the tallest gravestone. It was carved with Hyrokkin, the giantess who pushed Baldur's funeral pyre afloat, and rode a great wolf chained with serpents.