Metal Hidden Blades Novels & Stories

he asked, his voice dropping into a quiet, raspy whisper that sounded entirely hollow. "It's just a tactical blade, Thorne," I replied, my voice modulator throwing back the mechanical rasp, though my hands were secretly trembling behind my back. I quickly slid the weapon into its sheath, hiding it from his sight. "A custom piece I had commissioned through an underground contact. It’s uniquely weighted for low-light execution." Malakai stopped three feet from me. He didn't try to grab me this time. He just stared at the space where the blade had been, his chest rising and falling heavily.

BLADE 3. Pain. It was all I felt when I shot my eyes opened. I felt so sore and tired. The memories of how Lorenzo plunged deeper into me last night filled my mind. He was so cruel to me. I didn't find any enjoyment in it at all. I tried lifting my hands and I was happy It was back to functioning. My tit hurts too as a result of the sucking he did last night.

I needed highly specialized weapons—blades and toxins that could effortlessly bypass ceremonial royal armor and instantly short-circuit a high-level prime Lycan’s healing factor. Knock. Knock. The sudden sound rapped sharply against my door. My pulse didn't skip a single, betraying beat, but my hands moved with blinding, lightning speed. Grabbing the edge of my heavy duvet, I threw it entirely over the lethal spread of weapons, perfectly concealing the silver blades and specialized glass vials just as the heavy iron latch clicked open. "Come in," I commanded. My voice dropped effortlessly back into its smooth, unflappable, aristocratic register as I casually smoothed down the silk front of m

The Anatomy of the Thermal-Resonance Blade I began the process with the precision of a surgeon. I laid my obsidian blade—the one that had tasted the blood of the Shadow Alpha—onto the stone table. Using a laser-scalpel from my kit, I carved a hollow channel down the center of the blade, exactly where the 'blood groove' would be. "Leo, Ace... I need you," I called out. The boys stepped forward. They had been training with the Cinder-children, learning how to pull heat from the air without burning their lungs. Ace’s hands were already glowing a deep, volcanic red, while Leo stood as the anchor, his golden aura acting as a containment field.

He was always so pleased by her speed and ruthlessness in dispatching his elder children, that he doted on her during class. She was unrivaled in hand-to-hand, quicker and more sure-footed than her siblings. She was deadly with small blades as well, and kept one tucked in her boot at all times, just in case any of Killian's cronies took the young Lord at his word and tried to have her quietly dispatched. Not that she ever represented a true threat to either Killian or Reena, she was just as much her mother's daughter as her father's, and it was likely she would be a prey shifter rather than a predator.

Martha said. “I’ve got it ready!” Clark informed the two that he has the metal scraps melted for the additional blade support. “What type of metal are we using?” Martha asked Clark. “Hmm.. I’ve melted 60% titanium, 8% osmium, 12% iridium, and the rest is steel, all combined together.” Clark answered. “Perfect!” Martha replied. “That would be a great support to the sword, most specially…” Claude paused. “Specially what Claude?” Martha asked.

I shouted. I stepped out from behind Rowan. The obsidian blade in my hand felt different now. It wasn't just a heavy piece of stone. It was light, almost weightless, and it thrummed with the soft, white light of the girl I had seen in the warehouse. It was the **Blade of the Unsaid**. Every word I had swallowed, every dream I had put aside for the sake of survival, every "I love you" that had been lost in the roar of battle—it was all there, feeding the light. Vane pivoted, his liquid form spinning like a drill. He ignored Rowan and came for me. He was fast—too fast for a human to track. He was a blur of silver and shadow.

“For our leader.” Alex exhales slowly. “I didn’t ask to—” “We know,” Eve says. “That’s why they’re yours.” Mazikene unwraps the cloth. The blades catch the early light immediately. They’re a matched pair—slightly curved, long enough to demand respect but not so heavy they’d slow her. The steel is darkened, patterned subtly, like smoke trapped beneath the surface. The hilts are wrapped in deep red leather, worn in just enough places to suggest they were meant to be held, not displayed.

It was a stark contrast to the doubts and fears that had been plaguing me in recent weeks. I had managed to accomplish something remarkable amidst the chaos and secrecy that had consumed my days. Despite the challenges and the constant need to be cautious, I had successfully crafted the blade. The silver and orichalum blade that had been smelted in the potent cocoa pods ashes and liquid. It was a weapon of immense power, one that could potentially change the course of our kingdom's destiny. Holding it in my hands, I felt a surge of pride and satisfaction. All those sleepless nights and stolen moments had been worth it.