Fated Hands Novels & Stories

He made a move for my hand. Something inside of me stirred as our fingers connected. An emotion. One of the memories. Every life we have already led. The previous cycles. Our lost love. The fights we had engaged in. All of them remained within us. Energy surged through my veins, and I gasped. Damon's hold became more firm. He sensed it, too. Aetherion called forth golden light with his raised palm. "Fate is unavoidable." Damon took a step forward. "Observe us."

“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.’

“Once we start, there’s no undoing it.” “I know.” His gaze searched hers, and for a moment, something unspoken passed between them—a bond forged not just from shared danger but from something deeper. Without thinking, Selene reached out, her fingers brushing his hand. “Thank you, Kieran. For standing with me.” His hand turned under hers, fingers curling around hers in a gentle but firm grip. “Always.” For a moment, they stood like that, the moonlight casting silver over them, until Selene finally pulled away.

I was doing that enough on my own. Micah gave me a disgusted look with a slow and steady shake of his head, telling me he did not like what I had just said. “Roc, this is your fated mate. The one our moon goddess carefully chose for you. We do not give up on them so easily. So do not dismiss her so easily. Do not give up on her. You are stronger than that. Fate does things for a reason, you know that. So this is just a bump in the road for the two of you. It will make you both stronger in the long run, I am sure.”

"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

For four? Tristan reached across the table and caught my hand. His calloused thumb stroked the back of my knuckles, grounding me. “Evie. Look at me.” I did. “The Moon Goddess literally gave us a child for each pack,” he said, his voice steady, filled with reverence I rarely heard from him. “One for Melting Moon. One for Pine Wood. One for Celestia. One for Crescent. Maybe Alphas. Maybe Lunas. Maybe both. Whatever they are, they’re ours. And they will be fierce, because they come from you.”