Built From Broken Novels & Stories

I had been created from the ashes of six. Built from something broken. But this… This wasn’t that. I hadn’t rebuilt what came before. I had made something new.

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Avery sat beside me, Ember bundled against her chest, asleep and blissfully unaware that the future of two packs was being discussed over her head. Stoneveil’s alpha spoke plainly. “Our land no longer sustains us the way it once did,” he said. “Not just in resources. In cohesion.” He did not name Cade. He didn’t have to. “The fractures were already there,” he continued. “What happened only made them visible.” I watched Avery from the corner of my eye. She was listening—not bracing, not guarding. Present. “We’ve discussed rebuilding,” one of their elders added. “But rebuilding something this compromised would take years. And we would remain vulnerable in the meantime.”

Not broken. But whole. Forever.

He told me he loves me every much even tho am broken, be said, he will protect me and my child so I trust him. Lucas didn't say much but listened as she told her story. Am sorry you and your daughter have to go through that nightmare. Now that your reunited with your daughter Amy, she will have a fatherly and motherly love that she has been craving.

Aria teased me—“You’re not just raising a pack, Liv. You’re building them a kingdom.” I smiled, tired but fierce. “Then I’ll make sure it’s one they’ll never have to beg to belong to.” --- But then came the crash. It started small—bug reports, emails I told myself I’d fix after another feeding, another shift, another hour of sleep. Then came the update that tanked everything. Downloads vanished. Reviews turned sour. Unusable. Broken. Waste of time.

Let anyone try to break what they had built. Some bonds were simply unbreakable.

And we were building with love. And in the end, love is the only structure that can never be broken.

I thought: Vassa built this. I thought: she built a center that generated authority and a network that carried it and she designed the whole thing to work on the specific knowledge that only people who had lived the failure had. I thought: she trusted the broken system to produce the people who would fix it. She had been right. The broken system had been producing them for three hundred years. They had just not had anywhere to go. Until now. "Zane," I said. "Yes." "Thank you," I said.

Everything seemed to come back to my mind again. I don’t know what I should do. I’m confused, scared with what I might learn. I’m scared that what I’m about to learn will break me more into pieces. I don’t want this anymore. I’m fed up of being weak and how I always need to fix my broken self. If only… If only he loves me… I’ll be able to at least accept everything.