Blue Veins In Palm Of Hands Suddenly นิยาย & เรื่องราว

My hand is hanging at an unnatural angle, the skin already starting to puff and turn a dark red. I brought this upon myself.

Lior's right hand moves to the left forearm, pressing against it, and the motion exposes the inside of the wrist for a moment before being covered again. But a moment is enough. The veins beneath the skin have darkened. Not the deep bruised color of normal vampire circulation. Something darker than that. Something that runs in thin branching lines up toward the elbow the way frost patterns run across glass, black at the center and fading to dark gray at the edges, spreading even as Lucian watches in the second before Lior covers the arm again. Lior looks up. Meets Lucian's eyes with the gold gaze that has never looked uncertain until this moment.

I put my hand on my forehead and waited for everything to stop moving. The black veins caught my eye. They were worse. So much worse. Yesterday, they had only been on my hands and wrists, creeping up my arms like dark little rivers under my skin. Now they had spread past my elbows. I could see them clearly through my nightgown, crawling up toward my shoulders. When I touched my neck, I felt the bumpy lines there too. They had reached my collarbone. I was running out of time.

Finally, she pulled her hands away from his sides and turned her attention to his arm. At first glance, everything appeared fine, and she let out a soft sigh of relief. A closer look, however, showed her that the tips of his fingers were beginning to darken. The bluish hue wasn’t all that obvious yet, but when she held the affected fingers next to his good hand for comparison, the difference was clear. She knew it was only a matter of time before Ralin’s entire hand began to discolor and swell, just as it had the previous night.

When I stepped into the bathroom, I realized that my eyes were glowing ominously. I blink my eyes repeatedly, but it doesn’t seem to change anything. The dull red color in my eyes is terrifying. I slowly raise my hand up to touch my face, that’s when I notice my hand and wrist. There are huge green veins popping out of it, as if my skin is trying to morph into something else. Is that why my body aches? A sudden knock on the bathroom door makes me jump out of my erratic thoughts. “Rhea, you’ve been in there a while. Are you okay?” Finn asks from behind the door.

I looked down at my hands, shocked. My hands were cold as ice and just as white, with veins of black snaking through my skin. The tips of my fingers were black too, almost like Barry's hand. Almost. My eyes were wide. As I watched, the dark veins and paleness faded, and my skin went back to its usual hue.

Lexie looked at the pale area on the back of her hand that looked weird. They were the marks of intravenous needles and medical plasters that were stuck to her skin tightly. The infusion needle had a striking effect on her skin. Like a pale color that is not pretty and looks very contrasting with other areas of her skin. On her right hand the traces of the intravenous needle she had forcibly removed four days ago are starting to fade. Lexie chuckled blandly that she got two IV needle marks on the back of her hand in just a short period of time. How often she was in and out of the hospital these days. It seemed odd and somewhat amusing that she was rarely even a patient in the hospital. She's

I ignored all of them and quietly stared at my knees. Looking at my knees, I noticed that there were patches of reddish violet spots near my knee. I tried to press it, but the skin color didn't change or at least became white. It’s really odd. The spots are the size of a five-peso coin. I checked my knees and saw bruises. Was it already here yesterday? Was it because of clutching my knees too hard? My attention was also caught by the spots on my wrist as my eyes landed on them while I was touching my skin.

Like respiration. “It’s breathing,” I whispered. “Breathing?” “Yeah… it’s like I can see it pulsing… real slow…” “What is?” “Everything.” “O-kaaaay…” I looked down at my right hand and was suddenly enthralled. All the tiny, tiny lines – the creases in my palms, the quarter-millimeter grooves in my skin – were suddenly as distinct and obvious as if I were looking at them under a microscope. The blue shadows of my veins were absolutely fascinating as they twisted and branched under the pink of my skin.

The pain came without warning. Not the dull pulse I’d gotten used to, the low constant reminder that the curse was there and moving. This was different. This was every nerve in my left arm lighting up at once, a white hot thing that started at my wrist and drove straight up to my shoulder, and I knocked the report off the desk getting my sleeve up. The veins had crossed my elbow. I sat very still and breathed through it, both hands flat on the desk, watching the black lines pulse visibly under my skin. Moving. I could actually see them moving, slow and deliberate, branching.