Through The Looking Glass Ruins Novels & Stories

Lycan recovery was fast, but death’s handshake doesn’t leave without squeezing back. “You saw it,” he said. No greeting. No question. The prince rarely wasted sentences. Ivy rose. “I saw something looking back wrong from where it shouldn’t.” Jayden didn’t need more detail. He had already reached into the ruin rubble and extracted a mirror fragment lodged like a blade into debris. It hadn’t stopped glowing. The cracks in it were tidy lines, as careful fingers had drawn them. Silver light bled through the seams, faint but breathing. He held it out.

Her body convulsed with sobs, her last defenses crumbling, torn away piece by piece. In the end, she closed her eyes, surrendering to despair. But just as the final shred of her dignity was about to be ripped away, the door exploded inward with a deafening crash.

I called out, voice tighter than I wanted it to be. No response. Just the shifting of the silver fog, like something holding its breath. Back at the center of the ruins stood an obsidian altar—smooth, unmarked, but humming with something I couldn’t name. On top of it, a mirror. Small. Round. Framed in rusted black iron, covered in hand-carved runes that pulsed like veins. I looked into it. And what I saw wasn’t me. It was me—but older. Far older. Hair completely gray. Eyes sunken. Back slightly hunched, not from age, but from surrender.

Towards the Hierarch’s grave. The marsh sucks at our boots. The air hangs thick, tasting of decay and something sharper, like broken glass. The sky ahead isn't dark. It's wrong. A swirling vortex of bruised purple and sickly green, swallowing the moonlight. The ground vibrates with a low, hungry hum. At its heart, visible even from here, a shard of dark glass pulses like an infected wound. The last Mirror fragment. The Child stumbles, their breath ragged. The aging… it cost them. Not just power. A piece of their warmth. The null-field’s disruption lingers. They look fragile. Human.

I looked at the dark, jagged peaks of the mountains rising ahead—the gateway to the Ruins. "No, Leo," I whispered, the mercury tears stinging my eyes. "We're going to the heart of the machine. And we're going to break it."

Elara's POV The glass became foggy with moisture. Tiny beads of water slid down its sides, catching the light like something pure and harmless. I watched them race toward the coaster as the room buzzed softly with low voices and quiet footsteps. Nothing about the drink looked dangerous. That was the problem. Ruin had moved the safehouse again after the alarms to another buried place beneath another forgotten building. The Iron Reapers called it quiet. To me, it felt like a held breath.

Violet POV “ Stupid irish brut” I hissed walking to the closet to pick up my clothes for the night. “ I’m going to pay you back for humiliating me and making your stupid guards touch my skin, you arrogant, stupid, toxic dumb head” I screamed at the empty room, throwing a hanger across the room. I caught my reflection in the mirror and stopped dead, I have never looked this horrific, my hair was a mess and clothes were ruined stained with whatever disgusting filth on that warehouse floor.

Thunderous applause filled the hall. Grace walked to the center of the hall and looked at me, her eyes shimmering like starlight. After years of being underestimated, the Sutton family had finally risen to the center of Jorvale's elite circle in this life. I inadvertently met her radiant gaze. In my previous life, after I "accidentally" died in a car crash, my soul lingered in the air, tethered by a powerful obsession. That was when I saw the first person who rushed to the scene—Grace.