Holding Back Novels & Stories

Mae went on, “to do three things on purpose instead of by accident: hold, pulse, and speak.” She held up three fingers. “Hold is shield,” she said. “Pulling power in and wrapping it tight where it sits instead of letting it spray out your pores. Pulse is modulation. Not *none,* not *all.* A little. Enough to make a guard stumble instead of crush a room. Speak is command. The word under your words. The thing you did to that hound and in the hall. That one is last.” “Because it scares you,” Elowen said.

The perimeter doesn’t fracture. It holds. And somewhere beyond sight Something recalculates again. If he can’t break the center He’ll keep pulling the string.

I stared at him quietly, already guessing he’d probably try to smooth things over with some flashy gift. Sure enough, the very next second, Sean pulled out the latest limited-edition purse from a luxury brand and held it out to me. One glance at the tiny scratches on the bag told me it wasn’t new, probably one that his mistress had already used. Besides, if he’d paid attention at all, he’d know I never kept anything pink in my closet. When I didn’t take the bag, Sean’s face darkened with impatience. “Jane, you’re getting harder and harder to please! Fine. How about I take you out tomorrow for a date, just the two of us?”

Adam tried to go further, tugging at my clothes and trying to pull them down. Just then, something in me shifted. My mind snapped back to reality. This wasn’t right and this wasn’t me. “Stop,” I said, pushing his chest. but he didn’t stop. “Please…” My voice shook, I pushed harder, with my breath coming in short gasps. Finally, after several tries. he froze, then pulled his hand away from between my thighs. My whole body trembled, I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding,

The next time I saw Chase Reed, it was at a little guesthouse in the Rockies. I'd just finished feeding my son breakfast and was wiping his mouth when Chase came out from the kitchen carrying a tray. Our eyes met. I saw his pupils dilate in shock. Three years had passed. His skin was weathered and reddened from the sun, his face covered in stubble, with new lines etched around his eyes from the harsh elements. Then his gaze landed on my son. He froze mid-step, his eyes going wide with disbelief before flooding with joy. He hurried over, his eyes locked on my little boy. "Sweetheart... can you say 'Daddy'?" I lowered my head, turned sideways, and pulled my son protectively into my arms

“For someone who doesn’t like losing control, you’re surprisingly okay with letting this sit.” “I’m not okay with it,” he said quietly. That made me look up. Really look at him this time. And there it was again. Not obvious. But real. That tension under his control. “That’s not what this looks like,” I said. “What does it look like?” “Like you’re holding back.” “I am.” “Why?” He didn’t answer immediately. And for a second— I thought he wouldn’t. But then— “Because once we move on this,” he said slowly, “there’s no going back.”

"In that case, like you, I'll repeat myself. I love your smile." A tiny wrinkle formed between his brows. His hand slid from her lower back, up her spine, and stopped under her hair at the base of her neck. Possessive. A claiming. His fingers clenched hers, but it seemed involuntary, judging by the intense concentration in his eyes.

She knows Irtaza will be too harsh with Zahra for disobeying her and she doesn't know how to stop him. On the other hand, Haseeb was now extremely paranoid. He was afraid of what today's evening will be held for him. His heartbeat was faster and his hands shivered a little bit as he continued to drive the car. He still remembers what his elder brother, Saif has to face failure in his endeavor to protect Haya. And today both of them got nearly kidnapped, furthermore, his hippocampus acted like super stupid shit and forgot all the instructions Irtaza gave to all of them. He was doomed. He tried to brush off all the thoughts but he knew he can't stop the inevitable.

"Is that —" "It's not a deflection," she said. "I know. And I'm — I'm getting there. I'm further than I was." She held his eyes. "I need you to know that I'm not holding it back because I'm uncertain. I'm holding it back because I want to be completely certain before I say it. Because when I say it, I mean it completely and without qualifier." "I know," he said. "I'm not going anywhere." "I know you're not," she said. "That's part of why I'll get there."

I folded my arms slowly, watching him now. “Then what is it?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. He didn’t answer, didn’t even try to. Instead, he walked past me, setting his glass down on the table with quiet precision of control. Always control. But something about him right now, it wasn’t control. It was restraint and restraint only meant one thing. He was holding something back. “You’re not the only one who notices things,” I said softly. That made him stop, even when he didn't turn. He just stop, like a track.