Finn 100 Novels & Stories

I have to keep pushing through. “Finn! To your left fifty yards, birch tree, ten feet off the ground.”

Before anyone could react, he grabbed a fruit knife from the table—the one he used to slice Corinne’s fruits every day—and drove it straight into her chest. Corinne’s eyes widened in disbelief as blood gushed out. She looked at Trevon’s twisted face one last time—then went still. "Don’t look." Sawyer gently shielded my eyes with his hand. "I’ll get you out of here." Sawyer bit the tip of his finger, letting a drop of blood fall onto my fish scales. He pressed them carefully to the place where my legs had once been. Seraphina clapped and squealed with joy. "Mommy! You have a beautiful fishtail again! Just like mine!"

“You can’t be more than a hundred and forty pounds soaking wet.” A few of the onlookers chuckled, but Rayne stayed silent, rolling her shoulders loose. She wouldn’t waste energy with words. Her opponent however kept grinning at her like she was an easy meal. "You sure you belong here, runt?" he taunted, cracking his knuckles. The moment the whistle blew, Finn lunged first, expecting an easy win. She dodged, swift and precise, stepping past his wild strike and slamming her elbow into his ribs. He grunted, stumbling back in shock.

’ Finn taunted me in our family link. ‘Don’t be an asshole.’ I said before making my move. I did a fake-out move. I don’t use it often, and it’s a Holly move. I started to go left, but just as Finn moved to the counter, I went right and swept under his legs, bringing him down hard. We’d been at this for about an hour, and I didn’t want to lose momentum. Honestly, I wanted the fight to end. I got him in the Kimura Lock again, and this time, Finn tapped.

I filled the bathtub with water, ready to sink into it, but just as I was about to go under, Finn rushed in and yanked me up. “Until you’ve paid back what you owe Hannah, I won’t let you die.” His face was ashen with anger, yet at that moment, the System reminded me. System: [Finn’s affection level for you has reached 20%. Reward: 200 points. You may exchange them for a truth-revealing video.]

: :It’s not even a triquetra,: he grunted. :Yeah, I figured that out,: I replied. :I just kept remembering that day we got to Tidirath, and the horrible pain I felt. I thought it was because of that, because she had broken our bond.: :That pain is a thousand times worse. Ten thousand times worse,: Finn scoffed. :You would have known for sure if it had been that.: :I realize that now.: :Well, fair warning, your mate is heading your way, and she is beyond angry,: Finn warned. :I mean it. She is scary. Five feet two inches of pure fiery fury. I would not want to be in your shoes right now.:

He must have been severely affected by Mallory. Finn let out a sigh as if the entire world rested on his shoulders, prodding his computer awake with a mouse click and logging into the administration system. He already knew that Carter had informed him that his readership and subscriptions were declining, but he hadn't truly examined the numbers. Were they awful enough to merit a role in this embarrassing prank? Finn sympathized with Carter since he had also been burnt by a woman, but he didn't truly support his friend's plan to burn the entire globe to the ground out of retaliation.

Filling them up for Finn. “In second place was me, at twelve.” The bar cheered again but went hush as Finn stepped down off the stool and stood in front of his line of shots. He kept a glass of lemon juice and he downed half of it before he started pounding back the shots. He got to six, halfway before he coughed. The people close enough to see him take the rest of the sip of lemon juice laughed but he continued through the last six, slamming the last shot glass down into the sink, shattering it. The bar erupted again in cheers and full blown hysterics.

At seven thirty, Finn appeared. Thomas noticed him immediately. He always did. Finn was a regular, showing up every Saturday morning without fail to buy a jar of wildflower honey and a bar of beeswax soap. He was twenty-eight, lean and angular, with messy black hair that fell over his forehead and sharp, bright green eyes. His arms were covered in colorful tattoos, sleeves of flowers and skulls and geometric patterns that disappeared under the sleeves of his white t-shirt. He had a silver ring in his left nostril and a easy, lopsided grin that made Thomas's stomach do something it had no business doing.

"Darling Tove, can I have some of your meat, darling?" "You'd best be chatting about the bacon I can smell, Dracealina, or we're going to have some more words," Finn said as he walked around the corner. His Irish accent a song on the morning currents of air conditioning. He wiped sweat from his face and neck with a towel. His towering height put my six-five triplets to shame. The man had to be close to seven feet tall. And considering Drace was just an inch shy of my own five-ten, they made an odd pairing. Which didn't even take into account their personalities.