Cursed Knuckles Novels & Stories

"He is dead now, he already got enough punishment with the blows you gave him every day in the past week. He is no longer breathing in this world, Syl. Let it go. Let's not ruin our peace anymore by thinking of him." He grabbed my hand, leaning close to my touch. A smile tugged at my lips. But it soon faded away at the dark spots littering across his knuckles. Due to the lack of light, I couldn't see it properly. But I knew what it was. "Your knuckles…" "It's nothing." Voice hard.

My heels clicked softly as I approached, and that’s when I noticed it — His knuckles slammed repeatedly into the wall. A dull, sickening thud. Over and over. Unrelenting. The wall was smeared with blood. My breath hitched. “Drake—” I whispered, but my voice barely left my throat. His shoulders tensed, but he didn’t stop. His fists were already raw, crimson staining his skin. I didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate. I rushed forward and grabbed his arm, my fingers wrapping around his trembling wrist. His knuckles were hot, slick, shaking beneath my touch.

It looked like an ordinary hand — strong, calloused, faintly scarred across the knuckles the way a person's hands got when they'd spent a life fighting for things. Also sexy, the voice in my head reared its head. "Watch," he said. He closed his fist, and for half a second, a moment so brief I might have missed it if I hadn't been staring so hard, something shimmered beneath his skin, a thin thread of silver-white light tracing along his knuckles like the veins were lit from within, and it was gone before I could be sure of what I'd seen. "Cillian." My voice came out barely above a whisper. "What was that?"

She grabbed the bottle from my neighbor's hand with a ferocity I could almost picture. "Why do you have this bottle?" Jess demanded. "This bottle is meant to save my son's life!" Her words ignited something primal in my neighbor, who immediately shoved her to the ground. "Save your son's life? You used my son's life to save yours?!" the neighbor shouted, her voice a mixture of rage and disbelief. "Is that why my son's in the hospital? You selfish—" My neighbor, consumed by anger, grabbed a kitchen knife from the food stall nearby. The blade flashed, and in one swift, reckless motion, it slashed across Jess's major artery. She died on the spot.

I couldn’t afford to be weak. I needed to be strong. Strong for my pack. Strong for myself. I marched toward him, my fingers trembling with the fury that burned through me. Without thinking, I ripped the glove from my right hand, exposing the dark marks that marred my skin. The curse that had followed me my entire life—the thing that defined me. I wanted him to see it, feel the weight of it. I wanted him to remember that I was not someone he could just walk up to and pretend that things could change.

As the moon reached its zenith, my bones began to twitch and crack, signaling the impending crisis. "Are you certain you harbor no untoward interest in Kaida?" Caspian asked for the umpteenth time. "No," I replied flatly, my movements swift and efficient as I secured the manacles around my wrists. The pressure was building, my head growing heavier as if some malevolent force was wrenching it around. I steeled myself for the impending agony, my body already beginning to succumb to the curse's insidious influence.

“Sigh! I don’t know what it is either. That little skull was getting faster and faster. If I had known that the skull would enter your body, I would not have dodged it!” Fane felt a pang of heartache and guilt when he looked at Selena’s worried expression. He sighed aloud. “Right, we should see what’s in the bald man’s martial ring!” Fane suddenly thought of something, and he took out the bald man’s martial ring, searching through it. Within several minutes, he found a book from the ring. He took it out and began to look through it. His expression grew more and more unsightly as he read through the book. “Dammit! This is a curse technique of the Bloodshed clan and it’s very vicious! If the c

Kenny sat down, crossed his legs, and lit a big cigar. “My gift to you is number one, a beating you will remember for the rest of your life or number two, a more merciful option, you grovel at my feet begging me for mercy while you refer to me as your lord,” uttered Kenny as he blew the smoke from his cigar at Luke’s face. Luke was terrified, shook to the core, but his pride did not let him loose face. “no way I’m going to grovel at a rat’s feet. Do the very worst you can, you inferior specimen,” Luke said firmly, concealing his fear perfectly.

Chapter 34: "Tugged Into the Unknown," ───── ❝ R U B Y F R I D A Y ' S P O V ❞ ──── ║ Gregorian Calendar ║ 01 - 18 - 2027 ║ ║ Monday║ Class Day║ "Damn it," Muttering a silent curse within my hitching breath I eternally screamed within myself that I should have known someone would take the bait for my turn in the game. Now, the repercussions of my dark game had come for me, as it was also wrapped in that bloodstained bandage on Killian's pinkie fingers.

Zey surged forward in my mind with a low snarl. Bone break. Bad one. “Shit,” I breathed. Karissa slid the rest of the way down the ladder, dropping the last few feet and landing hard on her feet. “He slipped,” she said quickly, breathless. “The rung—there’s wolfsbane dust all over it. His hands went numb.” Terrence groaned again, clutching his leg. “Don’t move,” I said immediately, crouching beside him. Even through the mask the wolfsbane in the air was starting to make my head spin.