Novel & Cerita The Last Breath Book

Masked. A gun. No— BANG! The sound thundered through me. My head struck the pavement first before my body. Voices. Screams. My vision blurred. Darkness crept in from the edges, swallowing everything slowly. “Someone call an ambulance!” The words echoed. My last breath slipping out of me. --- "TO BE CONTINUED IN BOOK TWO."

“Then just die now,“ he hissed through clenched teeth. “And I’ll still have it all.” My lungs screamed for air. Panic rushed through my veins as I clawed at his arm, but his grip only tightened. Darkness swirled at the edges of my vision. My body grew heavier, weaker. Slowly I was losing my breath, I couldn’t feel myself anymore. I tried and tried to pull him back, but the more I tried, the more I lost myself. I felt my last breath leaving me. “Lucas…please,” I gasped, my voice shredding as the last of my breath slipped away. And then__

Instead of answering, I whispered the word that would start my final spell—the one I'd prepared decades ago for this very moment. The chest with its old relics began to glow. The book of predictions levitated, pages fluttering as if caught in a wind. "No!" the Mother of Lies screamed, lunging forward. Too late. The book burst into blue flames, not ruining it but sending it elsewhere—to the one person who could protect it now. Pain burst in my chest as the Mother of Lies drove her hand through my ribs, clutching my heart. My view darkened at the edges. With my last breath, I whispered the final words of the true prophecy—the part I'd kept secret even from Orion:

I never mattered. His phone buzzed briefly. Opening the message, he found it was a collection of surveillance clips his assistant had gathered. They were clips documenting every moment from my final days to my death. One clip showed the white sheet covering my deformed body. Another, me being wheeled into the crematorium. And there, the final parting between me and the world. Under the intense sunlight, Spencer staggered before suddenly crouching down and clutching his head tightly with both hands. He kept repeating in a daze, "How could this happen? How could she really be gone? Didn't you always say you're invincible, like a heroine?"

With every breath, my vision darkens and blurs. I can feel it now. Death is slowly calling me. Their voices grow distant and fading. The last thing I hear is Gabriel and Holly crying and calling my name. A tear rolls down my cheeks as I realize I won't be able to protect them. “I'm…. I'm sorry….” I struggle to say. And then, everything goes black as I fall. And I don’t get back up after taking my last breath.

His usual chirper voice was now raspy and his breathing shallow. He turned ghost white, his eyes rolling back into his head until they are replaced with white. His smile faded and his body fell onto the ground. He exhaled on a strangled moan. I would have given anything in the world for that smile and that breath to have not been his last breath.

A smear of crimson is on her lips, the drops I forced there with hands that were steadier than my conscience. There's no pulse. No breath. Her eyelashes rest against skin thats already turning pale. She's too still. It's not sleep. It's not unconsciousness. She's gone. I've seen thousands of people dead. Men killed on battlefields. Women burned in sanctuaries. Children thrown into plague pits like discarded clothes. Death doesn't interest me much anymore. This one does. I told myself to walk It's a practical.thought. If the blood doesn't work, the problem solves itself. If it takes hold, distance will keep judgment from clouding what needs to be done.

Maybe she believed that only in death could there be peace. I opened the bottle cap. “Mom, wait for me.” A soft click sounded. It did not come from the door. It came from the ventilation duct. The villa’s electrical system shut off without warning. The exhaust fan stopped. The lights went out. The bathroom fell into darkness. My hand shook. The bottle almost slipped. Someone was here. Was it Daniel? It seemed impossible. He was in court. Maybe it was a burglar. Or a robber. A sharp female voice cut through the darkness. “If you drink that, Daniel will treat you like an object and keep you forever.”

Mom opened the sketchbook, glanced at it, and started ripping. Hard. The sharp tear of paper filled the room. "No! Mom, don't!" I lunged for her, but my hands cut through empty air. I dropped to the floor, shaking, staring at the scraps everywhere. I couldn't even cry anymore. When the sketchbook was shredded, Mom stood there, catching her breath. Then she walked out and shut the door behind her. Leaving me alone with the torn pages. *** Mom's phone rang again. The driver. He begged her not to call the cops. Said he'd pay whatever it took.

*** When I woke up, Johan was sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless and smoking. He heard me move and looked back. A check landed on the bed in front of me. I stared at it. He only said a few words. "I'm bored with you." Something inside me cracked. Like porcelain shattering, sharp pieces cut across my heart. Still, my voice came out calm. I even smiled. "I've got less than three months left. Couldn't you wait a little longer?" Johan frowned. "Yara Yelton, you should know your place."