Corpse Bride Hands Novels & Stories

"Isn't the color beautiful? This is your latest donation to me." Then, grinning, she dumped it straight into the trash. "Oh, and I don't have hemophilia. I never needed your blood. I've trashed every bag you've given. You're such a fool." Fury exploded through me. I lunged at her, hands around her throat. "Bella Reid, you're gonna burn in hell for this!" "What the hell are you doing?" Ethan's voice sliced through the room as he stormed in, yanking me off her.

She loved seeing their five colors intertwined together so beautifully: her amethyst purple, Raziel’s red, Daemon’s black, Lucian’s cerulean blue, and Asher’s seafoam green. “Since this isn’t a traditional marriage, I have made a few changes to my normal speech, if I may,” The judge said smiling. They nodded and he cleared his throat, “I found these off the internet, but they work perfectly for you five. These are the hands of your best friends, full of love for one another today, tomorrow, and forever. These hands will work together alongside one another as you build your future together. These hands will wipe the tears of both happiness and sorrow from one another’s eyes. These hands will

he breathes heavily, dropping us to our knees before his mate's body, and with his fingers now linked between mine, thrusts our hands into her chest. The gritty texture of her coat is soon replaced by the feeling of wet rubber sliding under my hands, while Trent's fingers let go of my mine just enough to grasp around what's under my palm. He rips at it, crushing my hand in the process, as he drags a piece of her back out with our hands. His palm slides down from where my hands hold the remnants of what has to be her heart to my elbow, dropping to my waist. Every ounce of oxygen has been sucked from the air around me as Corbyn's words play over in my head.

The tendons still clinging. Human. Human meat. "Our offering," she said in a cracked voice. "For the only one left who can choose." I wanted to run. Scream. Burn this place down. But my feet didn’t move. As if my body knew something I didn’t yet understand. As if my instincts were keeping me from losing complete control. I whispered, “Why are you offering this to me?” The second bride opened her dish. A hand, perfectly severed. The nails painted red. The fingers curled into a delicate pose, like caught mid-dance.

“That corpse was as light as a fly.” I threw her a glare. “Just await my comeback.” “Yeah, yeah. I can't wait for it.” She grinned. Brienne handed over the bag to Kai, who brought out its contents: gloves, a scalpel, blades, a small knife, a metal tray, cotton balls, a transparent bottle containing a greenish liquid, a mask, and a jar containing a gooey substance. He put the gloves on, picking up the scalpel and positioning himself behind the corpse. Bile rose up my throat as I looked away. Brienne seemed comfortable as she placed full concentration on watching Kai peel off the corpse's facial skin.

Their hollow eyes made my skin crawl. "Exchange your vows." The ghost bride slowly lowered her head toward me. In that instant, a small piece of skull slipped loose from the side of her forehead and fell. Right then, I heard the system notification: [Ding! Congratulations on successfully selecting your target: Ximena Ferguson.] [Target has gifted you a blood-red formal suit. It has been added to your inventory. Bonus reward: one universal glue.] [Please remove the nail from Ximena's head and use the universal glue to repair her skull to increase intimacy.]

Colors pulsed alive in the dim light: cobalt colliding with crimson, veins of gold splitting the dark. Then I saw it. One stroke. Angled. Deliberate. A fracture cut through chaos. My breath stuttered. Memory surged. A brush dragged across canvas. Laughter spilling warm against my shoulder. Her voice: Not like that. Let me fix it. See? Every break can shine if you know how to cut the light. My chest constricted. It was her. My hands clenched the frame until the wood groaned. This was Asaraiah—my bride, living, breathing, fierce. But through that stroke I saw her. The one buried by time. The ghost I’d failed.

He tweaked her nipple with his other hand and her backside clenched on his leg. “I’m going to take you to your woman’s pleasure with my fingers, Eliana. Then I’m going to stand you up. You’re going to put your hands on the bed and I’m going to enter you from behind, the way my stallion mounted your mother’s mare when we were small. Do you remember that? You didn’t know what they were doing and wouldn’t believe me when I told you. You were so shocked to hear people could do the same.” His hands kept moving while he talked and he could feel her flesh heating and her channel growing wetter as it tried to draw his fingers in. “I’m going to enter you from behind, just as the stallion did the mare