What My Bones Know Book Novels & Stories

“I know.” He turned his head. “You know?” “I’ve known for weeks.” I leaned on the stone beside him. “Every report says the same thing your bones are telling you. Somebody has spent months breaking this world into small, frightened pieces, and now they’ve gone quiet, and things that hunt only go quiet at the very end. The next thing that happens will be the thing it was all for.” I looked out at the road south, toward Anton, walking a perimeter three hundred miles away. “So yes. I know.”

The cold stone pressed against my skin, but it was nothing compared to the fire coursing through my bones. At first, it felt like pins and needles—annoying but manageable. Then, the pins turned into jagged knives, stabbing deeper and deeper. My entire skeleton seemed to be alive, cracking and shifting in ways that no human body should ever endure. I clenched my teeth, refusing to scream, but a low growl escaped my throat as every bone screamed in agony.

The past increases, the future recedes. Possibilities decreasing, regrets mounting. ✾ The bones in my lap felt like they were rocks. Staring blanky at it, I felt Yohan’s hand squeezing my shoulders. My eyes drift to Eleanor, standing there by the entrance with no care in the world. Like she didn’t just throw me an important piece of history. Not to mention, these were bones from an actual person. An actual person that contributed to how the world is now. Anyone would feel like they were rocks, even though they felt light.

EIGHT An ambulance pulled up as Kaaron Brennan entered the house. Never once in her six years on the force had she ever drawn her gun with the intent to shoot; she was more terrified now than she’d ever been. Null was by her side, covering blind corners. Every door she kicked open revealed empty rooms, rooms of unfinished business. The paperback on the bedside table with the bookmark tucked within, the mobile phone blinking messages received, a scented candle that had never been lit. Death in the details.

blonde wood, with an emerald green canopy draped over it. The room screamed royalty. All of the furniture matched the blonde colored wood of the bed. There was a huge armoir on one wall, a vanity with a large ornate mirror behind it, once beautiful rugs adorning the stone floor, and a beautiful chandelier made of what I could only assume was crystal in the center of the ceiling. I walked over to my mother's vanity, and ran my finger over a thick layer of dust. I gasped as the room seemed to spring back to life. "Princess, the castle recognizes your blood signature. It's coming back to life." Gideon told me. I stared at him with wide eyes as the room returned to it's pre-dilapitated state. "

For a second, all I could hear was the sound of my heartbeat crashing against my ribs. Then the silence came. Heavy. Too heavy. Moonlight slanted through the cracks above, cutting pale ribbons through the dark. Shapes swam out of shadow—walls that weren’t whole, a ceiling torn open to the night, marble scattered like bones. And then I saw them. Bones. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. Piled in corners, caught under stone, bleached white and dusted with ash. A ribcage split open beside what had once been a pillar. A child’s skull crushed beneath a fallen beam.

Slipping the shirt on, I realize that I am extremely sore. “I think it is normal.” Zerina says. “So I will feel like this every time?” I ask shocked. “I dont think so.” “You don’t think so? Aren’t you supposed to know these things?” I rattle off. “I don’t know everything, but I do know what you have read in those books.” “Are you going off of books written by humans?” “For your information I am in the dark just as much as you,” she struts off into the back of my head.

Or fear. I stood then. “No,” I said, my voice echoing farther than it should have. “This ends.” The path ahead of me shifted. The shadows drew back, revealing a road carved not of stone, but of bone. Human bone. Wolf bone. Some old, bleached white. Others dark and fresh, still carrying echoes of magic that made my stomach twist. I knew them. I felt them. These were not random remains. They were mine. My bones. Spines I had once lived in. Ribs that had shielded hearts that loved too fiercely. Skulls that had dreamed of peace and died screaming instead. My steps slowed as the realization hollowed my chest.

Lyra couldn't take her eyes off the stranger. If she had encountered him alone on a road, she might have mistaken him for an ordinary traveler. There was no crown on his head. No armor. No overwhelming display of power. Yet every nerve in her body screamed that something was wrong. The Bone Crown had begun throbbing the moment he appeared, each pulse driving deeper into her skull until it felt less like pain and more like recognition. A recognition older than memory. The man noticed. His faint smile never quite reached his eyes. "You remember more than I expected."

I pressed my marked palm against the shelf of bones. "I am the daughter of the woman who stole you back," I told the room. "And I am calling in the debt." The library didn't glow. It screamed. A sound of a thousand years of silenced women rose from the bones, a frequency that shattered the glass jars on the desk and sent the ledger flying. The violet light from my arm was sucked into the skeletal remains, turning the white bone to a translucent, glowing silver. The library door exploded. Kael stood there. His human form was covered in violet veins, his eyes twin pits of shadow. He looked at the glowing bones, then at me.