Chelsea Blanket Novels & Stories

I couldn’t help laughing at the faces Chastity was making at the sheets, and Molly’s reasons she needed them. Eventually I wandered off to look around. I needed new sheets myself. I had just found the navy ones I wanted when I spotted something I thought Chastity would like. She seemed to like purple, especially lighter shades. The set had light purple sheets, and the fleece blanket that came with it was white with lilacs all over it. I grabbed it, and a small pillow that had the same design, and went to track down Chastity. I found her looking at the pink sheets Melissa was showing her, that she was wrinkling her nose at.

Ava's eyes were fixed on the blanket, her mind flooded with memories. The soft fabric felt familiar against her fingertips, and the pale blue thread embroidered with "Liam Cross" seemed to whisper stories of the past. She recalled the day she'd wrapped Liam in this very blanket, tucked it into the hospital bag with trembling hands, and silently prayed for a miracle. That was six years ago, when she'd left it behind at Damian's townhouse, hoping he'd find it and return to her.

Blake was acting much more affectionate today than he ever had previously, pleasantly surprising me. He found a shady spot by a tree, pulled the blanket out of his backpack, and laid it out on the beach, which was more dirt and rocks than sand. I sat down on the blanket as he stripped himself of his clothes, leaving only his boxer briefs on as before. I had almost forgotten how jacked he was, his pecs prominent on his chest, atop what was really more of an eight-pack than a six-pack, but who could really count when taking in the fine piece of art that was Blake’s body? Goddess, he was hot. I watched the movement of his well-defined muscles as the sun’s rays reflected off his chest and should

Chelsea guided him to a specific spot on the sand, and Arc's feet seemed to root themselves to the ground, his movements freezing as he took in the sight before him. As Arc's gaze fell upon the spot, he was met with a breathtakingly romantic setup. A beautifully woven blanket, in shades of soft blue and white, was spread out on the sand, adorned with an elegant lace trim. The blanket was surrounded by a delicate array of candles, their soft golden light flickering in the gentle ocean breeze, casting a warm glow over the entire setting.

The air smelled of damp concrete and rust. Chelsea lay unconscious inside the cart, her limp form hidden under a blanket. Two men lifted her out with practiced ease, laying her on the cold floor while Lena stood nearby, her arms crossed. She watched them bind Chelsea's wrists and ankles with zip ties before retreating to lean against one of the water tanks, her expression impassive. “She’ll wake up soon,” Lena muttered, glancing at the watch on her wrist.

“Brody, you promised her-” “Relax, I’m not going for Charlotte. As long as she stays the fuck out of my way." I carefully reached into Olivia’s jeans for her jangling set of keys, and gripped onto them tightly so they wouldn’t make any noise. “She’s going to need some clothing to last her about a week. I want to make damn sure Charlotte isn’t around for a few hours so Olivia can pack in peace. If she goes now, I’ll never get her to stop crying.” I looked around for a blanket, and found a grey fleece flung over the left arm of our friend’s couch. “Can I use this?” I asked Vasha in particular, knowing how she liked using everyday items for “decoration.” I always wondered if it was more of a Ru

“The first letter read: ‘I, Prince Habeb, the Prince of Suramy demand from you, Banabella, whose name I discovered in my dreams. I beg you in the name of your own god, grant me my wish, and avoid being uprooted from the face of the earth.” The second parchment read: “Because you have hidden Banabella in an unidentifiable place, with the intent of deceiving me, I’ll tread upon your bodies and make your kingdom bare like ordinary earth. Till I see Banabella, the people of Muzagah shall not be privileged to take in air into their nostrils before the sun sets tomorrow. Prince Habeb speaks!’

No matter how long they spend there, they can't stay more than a week, and that is if they aren't asked to return home by our parents. I finished adjusting my jacket as I stepped out of the packhouse, ready to join my brothers at the alphas' gathering. To my surprise, Chelsea stood at the entrance, wearing skinny jeans and a white T-shirt with a bold statement that read, "Don't look at me. It's the weather." I couldn't help but chuckle at the humour in her choice of attire, trying my best to divert my gaze from the cleavage the shirt seemed custom-made to showcase.

CHECKMATE {Playlist Suggestion: "I'm Not A Hero" by Hans Zimmer / "Start a Riot" by BANNERS} ~CHASE POV~ The door clicked shut, locking Chelsea out and locking me in. I waited ten seconds. Then I rolled my wheelchair to the window and peered through the blinds. I watched my sister walk down the street toward the bus stop. She was wearing black slacks and a black blouse that looked too expensive for us, clutching a bag that contained a change of shoes.

And then, with trembling fingers, I pushed the door open. The room was quiet, save for the soft beeping sounds coming from the heart monitor. The curtains had been drawn, but a sliver of sunlight still filtered into the room, casting a soft glow on the small figure that was curled up on the bed. Chelsea. My breath hitched. She was even smaller than I had imagined, and her tiny frame was nearly swallowed by the soft-looking blankets. There was a pink head warmer on her head, and her long eyelashes fanned her pale white cheeks. She looked fragile.