Novel & Cerita Emma The Gentle Blade

"You won’t hurt her again." Damian laughed again, a bitter, chilling sound that sent a cold wave through me. "You think it’s over? It’s just beginning." The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and before I could react, I heard it. The snap of a twig behind me. A movement too subtle to be anything but deliberate. I turned just in time to see Emma, silhouetted by the moonlight, moving towards us. She had a weapon in her hand—a knife. Her eyes locked onto Damian with an intensity I hadn’t seen before.

It was no ordinary blade, curling and forming the shape of a crescent moon, it’s edge uncomfortably sharp. Ember bent backwards, her body arching in the same fashion as Dina’s stolen blade. For a moment, it looked like she might fall over. She narrowly missed losing her head, and as the dagger passed inches above her face, she straightened up and launched an attack that clipped Dina in the shoulder.

Emma looks up at her sister and grins. “Come on then, sit down,” Emma says in a most innocent and grievous way. Both the mother and the oldest daughter sit on opposite ends of one another which forms a triangle with the cup in the center of it. The mother looks over to her youngest child, Emma, and gleams a most sinister and demented smile to match her offspring’s own self-sense of pleasure. That firm leadership voice echoes within the room that they are in. “Start us off my love,” Bel’Vonth demands while she watches Emma. With a quick nod of agreement, Emma quickly grabs the knife with her right hand. This knife is freshly made and sharp to the touch. Its blades are encrusted with the power

The thoughts… they rumble in my head that there is nothing clear I can open up. “Adira…” I twitched at the soft melodious voice that suddenly rang out in the air. My gaze then starts to meander from side to side in search of whom did that come from. “Come out who you are.” “Adira… you are the blade.” “Who are you?”

As soon as they stepped in, Lucianne smelled silver coming at lightning speed from above, and two blades came into view in Sylvia and Emilia’s way. Lucianne pushed Emilia’s wolf away before taking the blade for Sylvia, groaning as she fell to the ground. After extracting the blade with a mild concentration of silver from her arm, Lucianne shouted, “Get out of here, now!” Sylvia stubbornly insisted, “We’re not leaving you, Lucy!” “EMILIA! DODGE!” Lucianne exclaimed when she smelled another blade coming. The blade narrowly missed the Luna, and Lucianne pulled Sylvia and Emilia out of the hall before peering through the doorway.

"Gina told me. She's told me of most of the mercenary groups. Of Greenbush, and Hedgeshadow. Of Pondgrass, and Merriway. All powerful, deceptive, and fierce in battle. Yet, none as powerful as the Night Witch." Talks like this made Karl hard, but thanks to the heat of Lexi's cherry, it provided just enough heat to keep him from aching out in pain, and thanks to her tender ministration, and the rhythmic movement of her body against him. Slow and steady. "I like this beautiful feel of you," Karl said. "I am holding back my pleasure." "And you are driving me mad." ***

"You always were weak." 'Again, what is weakness?' Blackridge breathed a strange utterance and a fire began to flow through him, making its way to his hand and winding itself around his sword, covering it in liquid light from grip to point, the deep grey of the maurium blade fading slowly into the sparkling white of pyrite. He looked on it and smiled. 'Thank you.' "Well, Charlenade, shall we begin then?" "Let's," Charlenade spat, striking at him with his sword.

"Someone helped me treat this place before. A woman." I picked up the knife and a piece of cotton. For some reason, my fingers felt unsteady, a faint tremor I couldn’t immediately suppress. "Turned out she was a twenty-year-old girl. An Omega and..." My heart skipped. He knew. "She is my new Luna." The knife nearly slipped from my grip, but I tightened my hold around it, forcing control back into my fingers. "What do you think about it, Violet?" "That’s a lot of coincidences."

“I don’t even remember pulling the blade. I just—I saw you, and everything felt wrong, and then it wasn’t me anymore.” I held her against the wall a moment longer, searching her face. The confusion, the horror, it was real. “I know,” I said, quietly. She slid down to the floor, her hands shaking. I followed, blood sticky beneath my shirt. “Nathan,” I said into my earpiece, “corridor seven. Emma’s been compromised. She stabbed me, but she’s lucid now. We need containment and medical.” Emma looked up at me, devastated. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

I couldn't help myself from fearing the look in his eyes. I didn't dare to run around anymore and started pretending to be obedient before him. I would act like a maniac—I was sometimes compliant and sometimes hysterical. Half a month passed before I picked up some clues to indicate something was wrong. I was hanging the clothes out to dry on the balcony when I noticed a sharp blade hidden underneath the rusty railing. My memories pulled me back to that horrific night and the 160 stab wounds Liam had given me. They sucked all the energy out of me, but I tried to keep calm. Then, I found in his pocket two train tickets to Wenland and a receipt for some condoms.