Your Cross To Bear Novels & Stories

" His plea only made me laugh. He wanted to use me as his scapegoat again? Did he really think I would be his fool for life? I crouched until our eyes were level. I gripped his chin tightly and whispered into his ear, "In our previous life, you and that woman drained me dry. And in this life, you want to suck me dry again? Patrick, do you really take me for an idiot?" His eyes widened in horror. "You... You're also..." "That's right," I sneered. "Just like you, I was reborn." Patrick shook his head frantically. "No... That's impossible! If you were reborn, then why didn't you buy this lottery ticket?"

The nerves in my body quietly tensed. Soon, a sleek black car pulled up at the building. Thomas's eyes lit up, and he eagerly waved his hand. "Babe!" Imogen stepped out, impeccably dressed in a cream suit, cradling an enormous bouquet of roses.

A thin bridge crossed the chasm, its surface smooth with fog. “This trial will test your trust in one another,” the guardian said, its voice a gentle whisper in the wind. “You must rely on each other to cross the chasm safely.” Clara felt a flash of vulnerability, but she pushed it aside, centering on the bond she shared with her companions. “We can do this,” she said, her voice unfaltering. “We only need to believe in each other.” One after the other, they ventured onto the bridge, their movements cautious and precise. The chasm extended out underneath them, its profundity covered in obscurity.

"Elias." "Is that what he's calling himself now?" Clara laughed, but there was no humor in it. "The Crosses have always been survivors, Maya. They're like cockroaches—you think you've gotten rid of them, but they just keep coming back, generation after generation, wearing different faces but playing the same dangerous games."

More ruthless. *And when they come, when they find you, when they finish what I started, remember this:* *I told you so.* *You can't win. Not permanently. Not really. You can only survive. For a while. Until you can't anymore.* *That's my legacy. Not victory. Not power. Not recognition.* *Just truth. Hard. Painful. Inevitable truth.* *You're living on borrowed time. Enjoy it while it lasts.* *Sincerely,* *Catherine Cross*

At seventeen, Damien Delta severed all ties with his best friend. Without a single word or explanation, he cut Harrison Kane, out of his life completely. For years, Damien stayed on the circuit, masterfully calculating his schedule to make sure their paths never crossed. When dodging Harrison became too difficult, Damien quit driving altogether, stepping away from the track to build the cars instead. He thought he was safe behind the scenes. He was wrong. When the Delta empire faces complete ruin, Damien is forced to break his own golden rule. Dragged out of retirement for SLAT—the most prestigious, brutal racing tournament in the world—he has to step back into the driver's seat.  And

Everyone present was stunned into place. It felt unreal-like something straight out of a movie. Scarlett lowered her leg and turned her cold gaze back to Julian. For the first time, fear crept into his expression. He instinctively took a step back, a chill running down his spine. After a few seconds, he forced out a laugh. "Impressive. Really impressive. Didn't expect you to have skills like that. But so what?" His tone turned vicious. "I'm a Cross. My uncle runs the family. What-do you actually dare touch me?"

" I exchanged a grim look with the others. I looked back at my team, their faces now ashen as they realized our situation. We had mere moments to decide - cross the bridge into the unknown, or retreat and risk pursuit. But, as I spoke with determination, convinced that we could overcome this obstacle if we worked together, beneath the bravado, I saw the resolve in their expressions. And so, with grim determination, we stepped onto that treacherous bridge, our only path across the vast chasm that yawned hungrily beneath us. Crossing meant facing unknown threats and obstacles, but staying meant certain death. So into the gloom we walked, under a crimson bloody sky, the sweltering heat biting a

Maybe not everything—but enough. “Ezra…” I muttered. My throat burned saying his name. If Cross so much as touched him— No. I wouldn’t let it happen. My reflection in the dark window stared back at me, jaw tight, eyes too wild for a man of the cloth. “This isn’t over,” I whispered to myself. Because if Senator Adrian Cross wanted a war— I’d give him one.

It was led by Bear, the oldest living member of the Phantoms, his voice a gravelly rumble that carried the weight of decades. "We stand here tonight not just to witness a union of two people, but the forging of a legacy," Bear announced, his gaze moving over the gathered club. "The road is long, and the dark is deep. But as long as there is a Montague and a Thorne at the head of this table, the Phantoms will never fall." He handed Ruan two rings—heavy bands of hammered silver, engraved with the coordinates of the alley where we had met and the lighthouse where we had healed.