The Novel Unbroken Novels & Stories

He fulfilled all of my dreams to creating a family together, the realization burnt more than even fire could. My heart wrenched into two. If not more than anything I wanted to have a child with Lyssa. It was nothing more but a shattered dream. This love story was messy. It was everything but; sweet and lasting. There was no beautiful ending. Right from the very beginning, there were lots of hurdles, lot of heartbreak, lot's of pain. It was going to end that same way. I felt strangely comforted tho by her words, she could never regret us. No matter how broken this love was, no matter how messy and painful it was.

Unbreakable. Forever.

Chapter 70: Shattered world MIA It felt like my whole world was crumbling, piece by piece, leaving nothing but broken pieces which I couldn't piece back together. My best friend, the one person I could always count on, hated me. My dad was on the verge of losing everything he’d worked his entire life for. And as if that wasn’t enough, we’d been forced out of the only home I’d ever known because of my uncle Greg’s cruel games.

But just then, a tearing pain ripped through my chest. "Argh!" A violent cough ripped through me, and blood sprayed from my lips. My knees gave out. I crashed to the floor as a phantom hand plunged into my chest and tore my soul in half. This feeling... The mate bond... it's breaking! "No! Evelyn!" I screamed at the sky. "Impossible!" The pain grew more intense. I could feel the invisible thread connecting our souls snapping, inch by inch. Every break was like another slice into my heart. "Austen!" Seraphina knelt beside me in terror. "What's wrong?"

A book is not complete until it is read, and because of you, this story is alive. This novel is also a dedication to every person who has ever felt unseen or unheard. To those who have faced heartbreak, abuse, neglect, or loss, I hope Selene reminded you that you are not defined by your pain, but by the strength it takes to rise from it. If you saw even a small piece of yourself in her determination, her love, or her courage, then this story has fulfilled its purpose.

“That Leah was innocent. Sheltered. Naive about how cruel the world could be.” “And now?” “Now you’re a survivor.” He finally touched me, his hand covering mine. “Now you’re a mother. A warrior. Someone who’s seen hell and came back anyway.” “I don’t feel like a warrior. I feel broken.” “You’re both.” He pulled me against his side. “You’re allowed to be both. Broken and strong. Traumatized and surviving. It’s not one or the other.” I leaned into him, drawing comfort from his presence.

He took Amara’s hand again, holding it high, not in triumph, but in defiance. The photo captured at that moment would circle the globe before nightfall: The DeLucas, Unbroken. Across the city, reactions fractured like glass. Some cheered at their bravery, others whispered doubts. Ethan’s supporters scrambled to spin, to discredit Amara’s words, but the image was powerful, too powerful to ignore. And Ethan himself? In his penthouse, watching the broadcast, his jaw locked tight, his glass of whiskey cracking in his hand. “They think they’ve won,” he muttered, the shards biting into his palm. “But the war has just begun.”

A weak, flickering flame, but alive all the same. Leona wiped her face with the back of her hand and pushed herself up from the ground. Her knees wobbled, but she stood. She would not stay down. Not for them. Not for anyone. She pressed a hand against her stomach, the emptiness sharp, then lowered it again, her jaw tight. “No more,” she whispered to herself. “They won’t see me broken. Not again.” Behind her, the Private investigator  shifted his weight, his voice low. “You need a ride? I can call someone.”

I got it open and got in. Finding shelter: check! My body was shivering, and it was hard to move. I was freezing. A quick look around the room revealed some old fishing tools and - as by some miracle - petroleum and a box of matches. I grabbed the box. Thank God, I thought with a smile. Tree matches left and even though the petroleum was almost all gone, I was used to less back home. There was no fireplace, but a broken iron cauldron. I grabbed anything that could burn, threw it in the cauldron, and lit a fire. The flames were hot and welcoming. I smiled.