Chained Hands Tl Smith Novels & Stories

Alpha Cain glared at me, a silent warning for me to speed up, but I kept my pace slow and steady, still hoping that at the very least, one of the other packs would say something to delay or pause the ceremony. Yet, even they had turned their backs on me. My chains rattled louder as I reached the three steps leading up to the platform and found that while I managed to stumble and limp my way down the aisle, the stairs would not be possible in my broken and weakened state. I was lucky to be able to walk, let alone remain conscious. The only thing driving me forward was how stubborn I was not to let them see just how weak I was. “Get up,” Alpha Cain growled, grabbing the chain around my wrists

"I love flowers, every single one that you hand me," she murmured, her voice soft and tender as she held his hands in hers. Her eyes traced over the rough, calloused skin, noticing the patches of red and white hair that lightly dusted the back of his hands. These hands, so strong and masculine, bore the marks of yesterday’s incident—small wounds that had yet to heal. As she looked at them, her heart skipped a beat, overwhelmed by the intensity of emotions they stirred within her.

There were sharp thorns growing on the chains' lengths. Ferlah swiped her hand towards Purple Smoke and all of her powerful tentacles were storming forth, eager to crush the opponent's body. The attack almost took off Purple Smoke's neck if she hadn't swung herself to the side with the help of her chains. However, those chains were unfortunately pulverised into ashes as Purple Smoke used them to protect herself, the reason why they failed to escape from Ferlah's wrath.

Christian orders the people who chained me to leave, he holds me and guides me to a chair “I am sorry for the chains but I couldn’t have you pulling any of your witchy shit again. But he only knew about the fire and earth, he didn’t know about air and water, and my clothes were drenched in water. Fighting against the chains, I loosen the ones behind my back, it burned but it was enough to get my hands out and partially shift so they become claws. The chain around my neck was the biggest problem, it was burning into my skin, cutting the flesh deeply with each swallow. “Let. Tasha. Go!” He rolls his eyes at me “I think that chain needs to be pulled tighter” He pulls a pair of leather gloves on

A silver chisel stuck out of her wrist like an un-driven spike. "The press-man doesn't clean the type " Master Thorne's voice came from the dark beneath her head. The old smith was kneeling in a trench of water that ran beneath the iron gratings. He wore an apron made of thick ox-hide that had been blackened by decades of forge-scale and acid splashes. His face was nearly invisible under a slung leather visor. He held a flat-headed brush made of stiff wire bristles in one hand and a heavy wooden bucket of lime-slurry in the other.

Damien left with his little henchmen, my hands were chained, just wrapped around my wrist a few times, the problem would be the lock that ends up at my neck. Leo called me a fighter, I'm not a survivor. I won't sit down waiting for help, I'll help myself, if not for me then for Leo, he can't die with me ending up with Damien, I won't allow it. I tried to slip my hands away first, I have very thin and small hands making the whole maneuver possible, the chains bruised my hands and even left a few cuts but in just fifteen painful minutes my hands were out. I tried to keep my screams to a minimum hoping Damien wouldn't come back to check on me.

I patted the arm of the man standing beside me and turned to leave. Behind me, Alice screamed after me. "Lauren! You think hiring some actor means you can get rid of me? Dream on! If I can't have happiness, then neither can you!"

“Lyra.” ​The whisper crawled up from the damp dark beneath her boots, a low vibration that set her teeth on edge. She tightened her grip on Cael’s hand, feeling the calloused heat of his skin against her cold palm as the fourth chain continued to split. A thin, weeping line of silver light spiderwebbed along the ancient metal, crawling rapidly from one rusted link to the next. ​The faceless smith shuffled backward into the shadows, his featureless head tilting toward the abyssal drop beneath the mountain.

I narrow my own, leaning forward and pecking him lightly. “Bye criminal—” “Anatasia,” He interrupted. “Aren't you hungry?” I'm starving. “You want some food?” “Yes." I gulp. He hands leans over the bed, offering me a handful of cash. To put this in perspective, his hands are like...three times the size of mine. I have small hands. He has large hands. And all the bills are hundreds. It's ridiculous. “Um...am I supposed to buy a car or Chinese?”

"I'm just not sure if I should. I am not the person I was then. I guess you can say, I am scared. But I'm not scared of what I put chains on. I'm scared of the chains my grandma, put on me when I was born. I'm afraid if take my chains down, her chains will go also. I don't know what she chained, so I don't know what would be released. Red and Sal pulled into the driveway in their silver truck."Babe? Red and Sal are here will you let them in please." I said to Robby while he is talking to Jake."Yes, my love." Robby said while walking to the door."I love that man." I said to Peggy while smiling at Robby.