Cursed Hand Novels & Stories

Serenity shook her head. "Just help me to break the curse." "It's not easy, the state in which you cursed him was emotionally powerful. It had hate, anger, mistrust and mourning... That curse is strong. Not to mention that it's given by one of the powerful witch..." Sabrina said and Serenity looked away in guilt. "Augustus can revive people" Serenity said. "If he kills her and revive her back then will it work... There must be some loophole in it." "Augustus can only revive those people whom he has killed... He might revive her back but there are chances that the curse won't break and if she dies out of natural causes then he can't revive her"

"Jax sends his regards. The real Elio is with us now, safe and protected. The finger is a gift to show you his loyalty. The binding will finish the job that the duel started. Soren will wither while Elio thrives." I looked at my hand, watching the blackness spread. "Cut it if you have to. Save the hand. Do not let the curse take more than it already has." Mira worked fast, her hands steady despite the urgency. "I will try to stop the spread. The binding is strong but we can sever the local connection. The sympathetic link is direct through the finger. The finger is the anchor point." Rhydian held my other hand tightly, grounding me. "Stay with me, Soren. The pain is bad but you are strong. M

demon man? "Well, you see, you're a human. If it had been opened by a witch, I would have been totally free but they had no plans of letting that happen, but they knew I would come up with something. Some other being. Humans. And so they put a curse on the spell that if it's being opened by a human, I'd be cursed to be stuck almost powerless with him or her." "Almost powerless?" She couldn't help but mark out that phrase. What did he mean by that?

"It was only a matter of time before your two souls found one another again. I'm just surprised it took as long as it did." "You're wrong," Layla said desperately. "Atreus doesn't love me. I'm nothing but a meal to him. He's proven that much." "I'm afraid it's even more complicated than that," Niniane muttered, refilling their glasses. Layla picked it up and took a long drink, not ready to hear anymore. "As I said, Ravana is a ruthless b*stard. There's no way he would let Atreus wake from his sleep and live happily ever after." Niniane took a deep breath. "You know about the blood curse cast on Atreus, correct?"

I had touched Marc’s forehead during a fever and felt them pull back one clean inch, and I had mapped every recession on a private timeline because the evidence did not care about my categorizations. Now the hands in front of me were clean. I did not trust the word cured. Abe had been precise about that. A mechanism responding to bloodline signatures—two of them—and to the silver that had moved through me in the vault when Jasmine’s palm pressed between my shoulder blades. The artifact had recognized something. The curse had answered by withdrawing from the extremities. The quiet was temporary. When the window closed, the marks would return unless the next stage held them further back. I kne

Rivera hurried forward as Caspian and Lucien parted for her. "What is this on her hands? Why did it suddenly appear?" Kalean demanded pushing my wrist to her face. Rivera stared at the blackened veins for a long second before lifting my right hand to inspect it closely. "Goddess!" she breathed out. "It's the curse... but..." "But what?" Lucien asked looking down to search her face.

The kind of room that said: this is a place where the work happens, without ceremony. Elise stood in the doorway for a moment and then, with the particular courage of someone who had decided to do the hard thing rather than wait for it to get easier, walked in and sat in one of the chairs. Wren sat across from her. "Give me your hands." A pause. Then Elise extended them, palm-down. The marks were visible even on the back of her hands—the dark tracing at the wrists, spreading inward along the tendons. Not as advanced as Sera had been at her worst, but moving. The curse had been working for at least a month.

he said after what felt like an eternity, “then it might as well be a death sentence. Those words are a curse, Sera.” The fire in my core heated with something other than arousal. I made to shove off him, ready to deny him my body, when Killian held fast, sensing my shift. “But,” he growled, “I’m already cursed. I’m already a monster. I am the Hand of Death, and anyone who tries to take you from me will feel my wrath. So say whatever you goddamn please, and I will make your words our shield against our enemies.” His words were Shakespearean and I was swooning like a hormonal teenage girl. “Killian, I—”

Suddenly, from the corner of the room, their mother’s voice rose in a broken wail. “Carla! Don’t take one of my children. It’s just me… It’s just me. Don’t make them suffer!” The plea cut through the air like a knife, raw and pleading. Their mother’s eyes were wide with terror, her bound hands twisting against the ropes as she rocked back and forth. The name “Carla” hung in the room like a summoned ghost, a tangible thread linking the present torment to the sins of the past. Eloise and Elena exchanged a glance heavy with shared dread—the curse was stirring again, drawing closer, its tendrils reaching for what little they had left.

His hand shook, tendons straining, and for one terrifying moment I thought his skin might split. The air thickened. Shadows rippled under his flesh, twisting, writhing. I saw the shape of claws pressing against his skin from the inside, a beast clawing to be free. His eyes burned too bright, gold laced with something darker, almost inhuman. My breath caught. “You’re cursed.” The words slipped out before I could stop them, but they hung heavy in the room. He straightened, forcing himself upright though his body trembled with the effort. “You know nothing.”