Guess Combat Boots Black Novels & Stories

Cali spun and headed toward the back of the store, where rows of shoes and boots rested on metal shelves, arranged by sizes. “What size are you?” “Eight and a half.” “Ooh, ooh! Check these out!” Cali held up a pair of above the ankle red leather boots with four inch spike heels. Leesa grimaced. The boots were so not her. “No way. They’ll make me look like a hooker.” Cali looked down at the boots and grinned. “Yeah, they might be a bit too hot for you. I think I’ll keep these puppies for myself.” “Can’t I just wear my black leather knee-highs?” Leesa asked.

He has an almost full moonmark on his right wrist, a sign of the great achievements he has accomplished. He is wearing a war attire, a sleek, black leather jacket with silver fangs; which I believe are from demons he has slayed, rests along the shoulders and an embroidered wolf on the back. Beneath the jacket, is a form-fitting white shirt with a pair of dark, fitted pants with reinforced knee padding. On his feet, are high-end combat boots with a polished, metallic finishing.

“Shit. Where are you?” “Hiding in a closet.” “What can you see?” I roll my eyes. “Amara I’m literally in the tiniest hallway closet in a basement.” “Tell me anyway.” I look around. “Coats.” “What colors are they?” “Just tell me.” “Uh. Dark green and black. Bright orange. One that looks like it will come down to the feet of whoever’s wearing it.” “Okay. What else?” I look down. “Boots.” “Is there mud on them?”

It had a Drink My Blood brand on the chest so it was even cooler to look at. As for my feet. I wore a long black boots that happened to have three inch heels in it. It is black in color and has a design that looks like it has a lace up. I let my more wavy hair hang loose. I made my face a fine make up, red lipstick, eyeliner, and a mascara. I took out my black shaded glasses. Just like Hunter had. When I'm finally done, I looked at the mirror. And there you go. I'm done.

He shouts. A well built guy, with body made of comparted muscles, appears behind us. "Get the money." He says loud enough. "Kill him after." He whispers. I look up at the containers to check if I can see where the rest of the gang is hiding. I don't catch a glimpse of any. I look where Quinn is, he looks very confident for a man who came to a war, alone and with no weapon. Mac walks over to him. Quinn opens the boot for him. I watch crossing my fingers. Quinn is no match for Mac. He is too huge.

There was a burning sensation beneath my eyelids which I took as tears because not even a second later that same sting was onto my lashes, onto my cheeks till it ended up falling down on the lace of my shoes, my eyes shooting open for a second to blink them back. By now, Mr. Kim's upper body was bruised and the blows to his gut had him doubling over in half. I myself felt my soul leave my body when he stumbled to the blue side of the ring, one glove-covered hand ghosting over his gut and wasted no time in aiding to his side. My feet shivered and shook like the rest of me, my steps towards Nathan weren't uncertain, just unsteady. My eyes met his from behind the gear and I felt another shiver

"We’re leaving the territory." My heart leaped. "Where?" I asked, my face lighting up. I didn't care if it was a funeral; I was getting out. "You’ll see," he said, turning toward the subterranean garage. "Don't keep the engine waiting." I pried open the box and gasped. Inside was a pair of the most exquisite tactical-chic boots I’d ever seen. Tall, obsidian leather, supple as a second skin, with silver buckles that gleamed like moonlight at the ankles.

It was a fitted combat outfit, deep black with subtle silver lines running along the seams. The material was light but strong, clinging to my shape without restricting movement. The top was sleeveless, high-necked, offering protection while leaving my arms free. The back was reinforced slightly, designed to absorb impact without slowing me down. The pants were fitted as well, stretching just enough for speed and balance. They tucked neatly into a pair of lightweight boots, built for grip and quick movement across any surface. Beside them were wrist guards…simple, but solid. I picked them up and secured them around my arms, tightening them until they felt like a part of me.

I grabbed them up, held them behind me as I walked back out into the main living space. "So why am I waiting to crush his balls?" Kiema asked, her hands fisted on her hips. I pulled my surprise from behind my back. "Ta da!" "You brought me gross boots?" She raised one eyebrow at me before turning to consult with Saint. The other man was smiling. "You'll like those boots, honey. They have steel plates covering the toes. Absolutely no harm to you, exponentially more harm to him." Kiema leapt forward. "Gimme, gimme, gimme."

**LEA’S POV** As Easton wished, I finally went out for a stroll. There were a few items I wanted to buy after seeing their stunning display on the cover of this week’s fashion magazine. One of them was a pair of brown boots with black laces from Gusy’s latest collection. They immediately caught my eye, especially since only a hundred pairs were made in each size. Luckily, I managed to snag a pair at the last second. “These are perfect,” I thought as I admired the exquisite details. They’d be great for casual outings—maybe even a picnic. Boots have always been my favorite, and I’ve always had a soft spot for new models that look this good.