Fated Hands Novels & Stories

We can do this. Now come and hold our hands so that we can go back in time... Ethan moved forward and held Atropos and Clotho’s hand, Lahkesis held their hand too and they formed a circle. All Fate sisters closed their eyes and recited something. Within seconds they opened their eyes. Ethan looked here and there and was surprised to see that it’s morning 10 am now. All of them stepped out of the house successfully and then held hands again and then came to the dusky evening.

She was about to forcefully get it when unexplainable energy welled up her body to the brim. "The problem is the power I'm vesting to you has its constraints. You won't be able to see the red string that connects your wrist to your Fated unless you hold his hand. It takes thirty seconds for it to appear so before that, don't let go no matter what. No matter what! Understand? I'm just giving you thirty days. If you can’t comply, you won't die but be the ugliest to the point that no one can beat your title for an entire millennium." "You mean I will hold any guy's hand until I find my own man?"

“He may be your fated mate but he Is not your destined mate, over my body will I allow him get fated to you.” “He is your fated mate but not your destined mate, lycans are dangerous and wicked. “They don’t deserve to have anything with the werewolves and I won’t let you create any friendship because he is your mate. “Mom please, just bless the union because he is my mate.” I pleaded with her with tears already on my eyes. “I am never blessing the union, the only union I am blessing is the union between you and your arranged Alpha.” “Tell your so called Lycan mate to stay away from you and be ready for your Luna ceremony.

As the light faded, the three of them walked forward, and each placed a hand on the still entwined couple, ‘Blessed is the union of true Fae Fated Mates. All glory to our Goddess for bringing you together. May your union be fruitful and your lives long.’

“Nikolai, Nova, *these are the hands of your best friend, young, strong and full of love for you as you promise to love each other today, tomorrow and forever. These are the hands that will work alongside yours as you build your future together. These are the hands that will passionately love you and cherish you through the years and, with the slightest touch, will comfort you like no other.” *“These are the hands that will hold you when fear or grief fills your mind, when unwanted thoughts creep into your memories and threaten to break you. These are the hands that will wipe the tears from your eyes; tears of sorrow and tears of joy. These are the hands that will tenderly hold your children

“They’ll follow the cause.” He leaned on the stone beside her. “You are the cause.” A beat of silence. Then she asked, quietly, “Do you think we can win?” Kieran didn’t answer right away. Then: “I think you’ve already made the impossible possible. And I think Lucian knows it.” Selene nodded, her thoughts churning. She could feel the pull of fate tightening like a snare. The moon hung high and full above them now, casting silver light across the land.

"You little b***h!. Did you just insult me?!." Jessica said, shaking Freya's hand off her shoulder. Freya feigned a shocked expression. "Of course not, I would never. I was just simply stating a fact." Jessica's face turned red like a tomato due to anger. "You-" She tried to launch a slap at Freya, but the latter dodged it. "I wouldn't try that if I were you. Because unlike you who had been spoiled and pampered, I know how to use my hands very well."

Always with him. Her hand slid into his, as it had thousands of times. That familiar static of energy pulsed softly between their palms. He watched her eyes flutter closed and a soft smile settle on her lips. His wife. His Luna. A Werewolf. An Angel. The Fated Queen everyone had been waiting for.

Our fingers, entwined in a shared gesture of solidarity, radiated a warmth that seemed to transcend the physical realm. Reciprocating his grasp, I felt an unspoken connection pass through our touch, a silent pact that extended beyond mere words. It was as though our hands, intertwined like the delicate interplay of fate, held within them the potential to shape the outcomes of the uncertain path before us. And as I held onto his hand, I couldn't help but echo his sentiment, albeit in a whisper, "I fervently pray that your words will find their place in reality."

“Remember the keys to freeing yourself from the repeated curse of fated mates choosing another and rejecting you: allow the mate bond to accept who it was chosen for. Once you do, your luck and faith will shine brighter than even I, and your ancient powers will at last return. Your fated mates must share the same ending in name as that of your chosen successor. This successor is the pup you bear — not theirs, for they shall never raise a pup that survives beyond half the first generation. That is one of the many weights of the curse. They can never speak of it, and you would never learn of it, until your time came. Lyra has been made to not know the contents of that notebook, and through it