Her Gifted Hands Novels & Stories

"If it were me, I'd keep him close, too. Inventory-variant Gifted are extremely rare. Upgrading their gifts is the hardest among all Gifted." Hayley's hand paused mid-motion. "How do you upgrade gifts?"

He’d looked at all my bottles and jars, then back at me, the awe and adoration in his eyes impossible to miss. Another time, I’d accidentally cut my hand on a glass shard, and he’d been more frantic than I was. He bandaged it clumsily, his voice a pained whisper in my ear. "Myrna, these hands create miracles. They aren't meant for getting hurt." Miracles… I stared at the essence in the vial. This was just one more miracle I had created for him. Tonight was the victory celebration for his defeat of our northern rivals. This gift was perfect timing.

And the man standing in front of her—the man with the silver at his temples and the love in his eyes—was the realest thing she had ever known. She looked at his hands. They were large. Capable. They were the hands that had signed the papers to buy a company. They were the hands that had punched a photographer to save their son. They were the hands that had learned to hold a four-pound baby without breaking her. And they were the hands that had held her own when she was too weak to hold onto anything else. Aurora reached out. She took his hands. She felt the calluses. She felt the warmth. She felt the iron ring on his finger—the twin to hers.

"For your hand, this is the only one. I've already made my decision." His sacrifice warmed a part of my heart I thought had turned to ice. A month later, I could hold a pen. Alexander handed me a charcoal pencil. My hand shaking, I drew a single, clean line. A symbol of my rebirth. Tears blurred my vision. "I can draw again..." "I knew you could," he said, his smile genuine. "I'm your anonymous patron, you know. A.R. Alexander Reed. I've been buying your work for five years."

It respected my choice. The infected werewolves around me roared madly, tearing at the chain-link fences. But as I approached, they fell silent for a miraculous moment. Perhaps even these mindless beasts could sense my grim resolve. I stood on a high point of the ruins and closed my eyes. I summoned all the power within me. Not just my spiritual energy, but my life force itself. This was the final gambit for a werewolf with the "Hands of God" gift—a life sacrifice.

Others looked at each other, unsure, hesitant. Then, slowly, a few hands began to rise. One. Two. Three. Each hand felt like a nail driven into my chest. Four. Five. Six. Seven. I could barely breathe. Finally, an eighth hand lifted into the air, and my stomach twisted into painful knots. Giveon stepped forward from where he’d been leaning against a tree, his voice calm but firm. “Remember what you’re doing,” he said, glancing at them. “Her powers could heal us. She’s already helped some of you. If she leaves, that gift goes with her.”

Intelligent, kind and courageous. His mouth turned up as Lizzy made a silly joke, but Abby was thoroughly absorbed in his sexy hands folding with confident precision. His long fingers so capable. Capable enough to take away life or to protect it. Well-trained hands decorated with a few rough calluses and light scars. Feeling them run down her back or stroke her arm always resulted in goose bumps.

I looked down at my hands, "On one hand, I am relieved that my mother now has the power to protect herself and continue what she is supposed to do. It gives me peace of mind knowing that she has the means to defend herself against any potential threats." I took a deep breath before continuing. "But at the same time, I can't help but feel...useless," their brows immediately furrowed, eyes darkened with anger. Alarmed, I shook my head seeing their reactions. "Don't get upset. It's just that...with the gift being passed on to her, which is rightfully hers, I feel like...I'm not what you expected of me anymore."

I thought it would be simple, but it turned out to be the most difficult thing to get everyone’s gifts. Hunter looked intrigued by the box, surprised. “You don’t have to bother.” He was a little embarrassed. “You can open it. I do not know how much you are going to like it. You know, I am still not very good with my magic and may not be on the whole… “ Hunter stopped me by putting his finger on my lips. “Silence, bunny. The real gift is not in the material; the gift is always in the hands that deliver it.”

After surviving a kidnapping and being diagnosed with severe PTSD, I became the family's top priority. Every sharp object and glass item in the house was removed. The furniture was wrapped in thick foam padding, until not a single hard edge remained. My parents canceled all business trips. News broadcasts and violent movies were banned from the house. To help me feel safe, they even forced my younger brother, who had just earned a full scholarship to a top university, to stay home and keep me company around the clock. Everything changed on the night of my brother's lavish eighteenth-birthday celebration. When fireworks erupted across the sky without warning, I hallucinated instantly and grab