Fates Hands Trilogy Novels & Stories

"You will answer my questions truthfully and without hesitation." She opened her mouth to curse me, but all that came out was "Yes Master." "When the Creator ordained the Fates, how many were there?" She tried to keep her mouth closed, but the order I'd given her forced the air from her mouth. "Two, there were two Fates. Present and Future. There was no need for a past because it was set and unchangeable." Both Nimue and Gwendolyn gasped. Greg nodded. "Then where did you come from? If the Creator didn't ordain a Fate of the Past, who are you?"

Breaking a promise had severe repercussions. “As far as I know… a promise isn’t enough to create a mate bond,” I said. “True. Your mother had just engaged us in a betrothed mate bond. She didn’t have the power to bind us in one,” he said, and I looked at him. “That power lies with the Three Fates alone.” “But my mother is dead. The promise you made to her doesn’t really matter now,” I said. The prince raised Yandor’s letter in his hand.

They felt chills in their body as voices from the forest spoke before they saw a huge silhouette of someone with three heads. Amy gaped in realisation, making them eye her. "It...it's the fates." She stuttered and held her husband's hands tight. "You can not change what's already written, kid." One of the fates spoke as her voice echoed the whole place. Gwen stepped back and glared at the left head that spoke. "I write my own fate and my own destiny. I will make sure I protect most of them, if not all." "Your ignorance to destiny will be your befall." The centre head spoken this time.

That tiny cry still echoed in her mind, reminding her why she couldn’t stop. Shadows thinner more, and she saw Ares handsome as sin but not arrogant as usual but rather confused, standing in the god's realm next to three women dressed in hooded cloacks in hands they spinned golden threads. Darina gasped. They were Moirais, goddesses of Fate. "Tell me, Fates, why do I always think about her? She is mortal. She chose another, but the invisible pull not letting me go, all I want to be next to her, "he pleaded desperately.

“Why is it Fated One?” Rebecca explained, “The fates are the writhing gods of chaos and tricks. The fates like to play a game and bet with their so-called thread of life, yet none seems to know the thread of the Fated One, they made a bet that she would succumb to her destiny and change the fates of the world. However, they weren't all unfair, they gave her a mysterious weapon to aid her. The whip-sword." Lucinda held the container of the whip-sword away from herself as if she was holding a dangerous serpent.

Ava's pov “If…” I started. “If what you're saying is true then I must have been gifted back then, why didn't I stop the war? What makes you think I can stop it now when I couldn't stop it then?” “It wasn't the right time.” The keeper said. “The goddess may be supreme but she is not to interfere with the works of the fates.” “Fates?” I asked The scene froze and the keeper appeared before us. Its voice— neither male nor female, was calm as it spoke. “Every living thing in the universe is the work of the fates.” It started. “The fates are three ancient magical women who weave threads for every living thing.”

I just don’t seem to understand her, she tells me that she doesn’t want me to touch her and now she’s the one willingly holding my hand. "Let go of my hand," I said "Where are you going?" She asked again "Let. Go. Of. My. Hand." I spoke out "Oh wow! You are shamelessly having pride, where are you going?" She yelled "Let go of my hand Noor, you don’t own me and you have no right to ask me where I’m going," I said; my voice very soft and calm "Where the hell are you going?" She yelled "Somewhere away from you," I told

Daniel and Scott were both present by now. “For forcing me to donate my blood and for killing my mother, you bastard.” “Sister,” Linda held my hand. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I know I am wrong. Please forgive me and come back to me.” I yelled. “You’re sick. A psycho.” “Mate,” I heard someone howl. Wait, do I have four mates? I turned around to see something amazing. Marcus was holding Janet’s hand. I could see how surprised Janet was. “Hey, who are you?” She screamed, afraid. “Why are you holding my hand?”

Yaya says curtly. I understand now, to a small degree, the frustration that Yaya and her brother must feel. They are villainized before people give them a chance to prove otherwise. Yaya places her hands on Kent and Landon again, keeping her eyes open as they begin to glow like a raging fire. She murmurs to herself in Latin again and I watch as her hands glow a bright orange, the light traveling into Kent and Landon, snaking through their veins. Archie’s jaw hangs open like a fish, while Claire and Morgan clutch onto each other, holding their breaths.

I walked towards him as he is seated majestically on his golden throne with his wizard Harrod standing next to him. Harrod makes all kinds of medicines and black magic for father. "Father, you sent for me." I say with a small bow. "Yes." He replies. "What is it father?." I asked politely. He faced Harrod and gestures at him to speak up. Harrod turned to me and bowed. " My prince, i'm afraid there's no cure for the king's deformed hand in this kingdom." He says. I glanced at father's left deformed arm and sighed. He always uses a golden glove to hide it.