Doing Harm Novel Novels & Stories

“Nikolai’s letter mentions an amulet?” “Something is protecting Phillipe from injury. If you cut him, the wound appears on the attacker. He is impervious to serious injury. Although Nikolai did punch him in the stomach without hurting himself in return.” “What? When did Nikolai do that!” Helena jumped, her brown eyes wide and confused. The letter bristled in her hands. Pages and pages of explanation, yet it appeared Nikolai didn’t want to tell his parents everything he got up to. That childish fact made me grin inside.

He’d sent a limousine. I pressed my forehead to the window, watching the city roll by. My reflection stared back at me—makeup smeared, eyes swollen, hair a mess. Not a princess. Not a victim. Just a girl who’d been broken, pieced back together with fury, and delivered into the hands of a man who was both salvation and destruction. The tears didn’t stop, but this time, they weren’t from pain. They were from freedom. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t weak little Elena, the “easy twin,” the “curvy mistake.” I wasn’t my father’s pawn or Adrian’s consolation prize.

“If you wanted my attention, you’ve succeeded. So tell me, Trisha, what’s your big plan now? Is your little dog coming behind you with his puppies?” For a second, I saw red. And even before I was conscious of what I was doing, I’d already raised my hand and slapped Damien across the face, my nails successfully clawing at his skin to leave four bloody gashes across his face. Damien stumbles back, his hands falling to his side as he blinked blood out of his eyes from the gash on his forehead. It was only then that I noticed that there was blood on my hands and not only had I acted before thinking, I’d committed a serious crime: harming the King.

I kept hitting him insanely until Daniel back was slammed hard against mirror wall ‘CRACK..... CRACK... Clankxxxx........... CRACK......’ entire wall mirror got shattered into sharp piercing piece Daniel entire face by now had turned into deeper shade or purple and blue, thin streams of blood was oozing out from his forehead , hands and neck... however my anger was not calmed, I was here with intent to kill this motherfucker.... As Daniel struggled to stand up on his feet’s I mercilessly pulled him up by his collars and roughly pushed him down in front of my stepmother, by witnessing the fearful look in her eyes I could tell she herself was scared to death....

“Fifteen. Her name’s Nova Camille Lawson. Black curls like her mama’s. Eyes too wide, always full of questions. Reads too much. Loves poetry, even when she pretends not to. Smart—scary smart. If you ever meet her… don’t hurt her. Protect her. Please.” Damian didn’t answer. Couldn’t. But something in him shifted that night. A vow, quiet and burning. The next day, the man was gone, no body, no explanation, Just gone. And Damian never stopped wondering if that night, their last, had made him an accomplice or a witness.

No flicker, no burn. A few approving murmurs ripple through the benches. Someone coughs, uneasy. Bryndis, next. “Have you brought harm—by word, deed, or influence—to any in this pack?” What a question. My whole existence is a balancing act between harm and help. But here, in this hall, a slip means exile—or worse. My heart pounds. I think of those I’ve healed, those I couldn’t save, the Rupture threading its way through us all. But my harm has never been on purpose. Let them see that.

Harlow’s voice wavers slightly, but she presses on, “He is the only family we have left… and now that Lucien is gone, we’re all he has left too.” I choose my next words very carefully, “And… Damien, he is like Lucien?” Heidi’s eyes narrow and Harlow scoffs, “He’s worse. Lucien did awful things to us, but only when he was angry, or frustrated, I guess we were his way to blow off some steam. Damien though, he’ll do things to us just for fun. Lucien usually didn’t allow him near us, probably because he knew how sadistic he is.” She pauses, her eyes finding her sisters, who nods, and Harlow continues, “Damien has a particular obsession with Heidi… he tortured her when they were children. Mother

Of course they do. They fold with the surge, roll under it, come up already moving while the rest of us slam into pipes, bodies, each other. Sarah catches Nell before Hale loses her. Renn goes under and comes up swearing blood. Vora disappears for two seconds that last too long before Finn drags her up by the collar. I hit the grate shoulder-first. Pain flashes white. Then the burn in my palm catches. Damian catches with it. There is no physical contact. Worse. There is no touch. There is only access.

“Conflict. Harm. Patterns that end badly.” The machines hummed softly, as if acknowledging the accuracy. Another voice layered over his, this one sharp, accented, impatient. “If they respond to harm,” the woman said, “why did they protect you.” I felt the weight of that settle heavy in my chest. “Because I was about to be removed to preserve a narrative,” I said. “And that removal increased projected harm.” “So you are more important than the rest of us,” the woman shot back. “No,” I said firmly. “I was more visible.”

He ought to be glad. I drew a long breath, tucked the report away, and went back to sifting through my jewelry, setting aside pieces to donate. Just then, the front door opened, and the light at the entryway turned on. Eric was back. He was still tall and handsome, exuding confidence and vitality. Even his hair had that little flip I loved. And then I saw a lipstick stain blooming on his collar. I couldn't look away from that slash of red. My hand jerked, and a brooch in the jewelry box pricked my finger. With my wolf fading, my healing abilities barely worked, and the blood gushed at once.