Ironhand Book Novels & Stories

“Yes sir!” the men replied. Once more, Zephyr laid his eyes on the books, his gaze rested on one of them. The book was covered in a layer of dust and was made of bamboo. It looked unique. “Thunderfoot?” Zephyr muttered as he opened the book, reading its contents. A wave of excitement washed over him. He excitedly flipped through the pages, carefully memorizing the technique’s intricate steps.

I stumbled toward Rohan, my legs feeling like lead. "Rohan," I whispered, falling to my knees beside him. His head was hanging low, blood dripping from his wounds onto the silver chains. I reached out, my fingers glowing with a soft, healing light, and touched the metal. It hummed and fell away, the silver no longer able to resist the heat of my magic. As the chain hit the dirt, Rohan’s eyes snapped open. They weren't blue anymore. They were blinding gold. Before I could breathe, he lunged. He didn't attack me; he dragged me into his chest, his hands locking around my waist. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breath hot and ragged against my skin.

My gaze landed on some of the worn, leather bindings on the shelves. I walked towards them before I could stop myself, letting my hands trace the spine before I pulled out one. Green, old, frayed. The name written on the first page after the cover made my blood run cold. My breath left in a rush. Henry Stark, written in fine handwriting. The same handwriting I’d recognize even in my sleep. I failed to stop my hand from shaking. Why in the seven hells is this book here? How did Lloyd gain access to this? More importantly, why didn’t he tell me?

Kaelen Thorne The hand that reached out from the rift didn't look like a hand. It was a fluid, shifting geometry of silver, like mercury caught in a dream. It didn't belong to a man, but to the Idea of Ownership. I felt my heart hammering against my ribs, not with fear, but with the instinctive biological rejection of something that shouldn't exist. I stepped in front of Elara and the children, my hand gripping my knife, though I knew steel would be as useless as a prayer against a hurricane.

I was late morning when Tristan entered the room pulling my head of the book, I looked at him in slight amazement. “We have the conference call in twenty minutes.” He greeted stepping into the room as I looked up. “What?” He asked and I held up the book. “Tristan, this book.” I stated not really knowing how to explain it. “It’s a novel, just a story that I found in the library, but it’s based on a family of werewolves, the two daughters, twins, were born with a special gift, they could produce fire and ice.” I uttered and watched as his brows rose. “They later became joint alphas of the their pack. Do you think this could be the story of the alpha twins that we were looking for?”

A book suddenly appeared on ivory’s hand it looked old but it was surprisingly in good shape. ‘What is this?’ ivory asked curiously. ‘It’s a technique book’. Ivory eyes lit up and she opened it, on its first page the title was written it was called Ice fist. The book contained images and writings. It involved enveloping your hands with ice such that, the ice looked like gloves. It had the ability to freeze and shatter anything punched and it could even harm those who were just a phase higher than the user. Ivory quickly sat down and immersed herself in the book. Anita finally lifted her head and smiled when she saw ivory reading. Anita suddenly looked up in worry but she wasn’t looking at wh

He raised his arms and she saw the thick black shackles on his wrist and ankles. "Let me free you!" Rie ran towards him. "No. Don't touch the chains. I may be here but only in spirit. My physical self is trapped somewhere in the deep recesses of hell. Only a druid can help connect me from my body. Here, open your hands." Doing so, she watched as he placed some white feathers on her palms. "Spread this on his wound and it will help extract the poison. He should be well in a few minutes. Go now."

He is Lleandro vessel and Alice can't take that chance away from her. "Ekhlashan kirbavah," she whispered into thin air. A black book covered with a cloth suddenly appeared in front of her. She took the book and blew the dust away. It's the forbidden book she stole from the Elder witch back in her coven. She carefully opened it and read every single word written on it. She's ready to sell her soul to the devil if it means she'll have Lleandro back.

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 don’t know if I’m ready. But I know I’m willing. And for now... I’m in his good books. That has to count for something.” “What do you mean ‘good books’?” “I mean,” Andra said with a sly smile, “that I can probably get away with a few things here and there and still live my best life.” Molly raised a brow. “I wouldn’t bet on it. That man strikes me as the ‘I-see-everything’ type.” “He did say he loves with his eyes open.” “Exactly,” Molly said, gesturing with her spoon. Andra leaned back with a smirk, lifting her glass of juice as if in toast.