Metal Knuckles Novels & Stories

Three days before the wedding, I was cleaning out some old boxes when I remembered the time capsule Natasha Rowe and I buried ten years ago. When I mentioned it, her face stiffened for a moment. She quickly tried to talk me out of going. "It's been so long," she said. "Someone probably dug it up already." I didn't think much of it and went back to our old high school alone. At the spot where we buried it, I started digging. Instead of one box, I pulled out five metal containers of different sizes. Two of them were the ones Natasha and I buried ten years ago, their surfaces rusted and worn. But there were three others. One of them was just as rusted as ours. The other two looked almost brand new. The old extra box had a name scratched into the lid. Vince Houle. On it were the words, [My secret crush was a war I fought alone. Natasha, I hope you're happy.] I remembered him then. He had been a quiet guy who sat behind us in class. The kind of student no one really noticed. The two newer boxes had names carved into them, too. Natasha and Vince. The date etched into both of them was today. On Natasha's box were the words, [The greatest regret of my life is that I couldn't marry you.] On Vince's box were the words, [The greatest regret of my life is that I can't openly congratulate you on getting married.]

At my father's wake, my wife came in carrying her son. The boy was less than two years old. He was not mine. In front of me, in front of every person there to mourn my father, she opened the urn and held the boy over it. I screamed and lunged for the urn. The Vance security team was on me before I cleared the aisle. They held me on the floor. My father's ashes, mixed with the boy's urine, smeared across my face and into my mouth. I could not stop crying. Stella Vance straightened her skirt. "Zane has been crying every night. Our adviser said the ash of an honored elder will calm a child like that. Good for his health." The taste of metal came up the back of my throat. Before I could move, she was already at the door. "Have his ashes dried out by morning. Zane will need it again tomorrow night." By the time I came back to myself, she was gone. I held the rage in. I sent her one message. "You think you're going to do this to my father. You're insane. The divorce papers are coming." After that, every message I sent was blocked. I turned to the woman next to me, the woman who had stood beside me my whole life. And I said, "I will sign the company over to you. Help me bury Vance Group." Cassia Wynn looked at me a long time. "I don't want the company. I want you." I went still. Then I said, "Yes."

“ One scratch, one head. “ His words terrified the whole civilization of the Cabrine city. As his sharp eyes flickered with darkness, everyone held their breaths. The figure in front of them was no other than Diamond Fletcher – the sin of pride from the seven deadly sins. Having the vampires lineage with the alpha's blood, he was one of the ruler in the biggest city of the realm. Nevertheless, he was also a five-star general in the human world. “ The young madam is in your room young master. She was in her deep slumber when the potion took effect. “ One of his allies said, trembling and trying himself not to stutter. Without a word, the sin of pride walked away with his head high. The eagerness to see her after three years of disappearance made him crave for her scent. His desire to own her and her blood filled his sorrow and anger. When he reached his room and locked the door, the coldness in his eyes vanished in the mist. He stepped closer to the and saw her lying unconscious. Her hair was messy as well as her dress. It was slightly ripped that made his eyes pinned to her slender legs under the thin fabric. When he brushed his knuckles over her cheeks, he closed his eyes for five seconds to feel how soft her skin was. It was delicate. It was seductive, yet, it was also delicious. “ Finally, our hide and seek just ended. “ He bended his body as he whispered near her flushed ears. Biting it slightly before her neck, he only wanted to ‘do' her. To punish her! ‘ You’re mine. Every inch of you is mine. Just mine. Mine alone! ‘ **** WARNING: There will be an obsession and possessiveness at the middle.

After I was reborn, when Blake's childhood sweetheart Catherine cut a lock of my hair during a party dare — again — I didn't do what I did in my past life. I didn't shear off all her hair in front of everyone and turn her into a bald wolf. I didn't lose control and storm into the Council of Elders when Blake defended her, threatening to sever our mate bond. Instead, I calmly removed the Luna's crown from my head and placed it on Catherine's. "The crown's hers now. Have fun with her." I put on my coat and walked out of the estate without looking back. It wasn't that I wanted to bow to Catherine. But in my past life, after I severed the bond with Blake, things went horribly wrong. He threw me into a cell made of pure silver, like I was some irredeemable criminal, and left me there while the metal scorched my skin day and night. When I finally escaped, I was poisoned by a witch from a rival pack. Dying from the pain, I abandoned every shred of my dignity and crawled to the doors of the Temple of the Moon Goddess, begging him to let the witch give me the antidote. He was kissing Catherine. He didn't even tell his guards to let me in. I died from the poison — one day before my father, the Alpha King, came to find me. I refused to meet that fate again. So I was done with Blake.

Victor and I were nothing more than a pair of sworn enemies married inside the camp. He hated me for handing over my frail sister to the research institute, all so they could extract the antiviral serum from her blood. And I hated him for never seeing anyone but her, even in the apocalypse, when she could barely lift a metal rod. For the ten years of the apocalypse, the words we said to each other most often were, "Die a miserable death." … However, when the zombie horde finally broke through the last line of defense, he chained me to the modified mech truck and went out alone to face it. "Live…" I watched as the tide of corpses swallowed him whole, the crack of breaking bones mixing with the sound of flesh being torn apart. On the edge of death, he pulled out my sister's faded photo and placed it over the one clean spot on his chest. "This life is yours. But if there's a next one, don't go near her again." … That night, when I returned, I blew up the camp. When I opened my eyes again, I went to the zombie king. His razor-sharp claws closed around my throat, and I smiled as I took hold of his hand. "Let's make a deal. Give humans five more years, and I'll willingly be your queen." Last time, he gave his life to save me. This time, I'll be the monster—so they can all get what they want.

After my mate, Regulus Thornfield, dies from an "accident", his twin brother, Lawrence Thornfield takes over his position as the Alpha. He also inherits me and my pup, Niall Thornfield. The new Luna, Alice Moreau, views me as a thorn in her side. She wants nothing more than to exile Niall and me. One night, I head over to the study to ask Lawrence to let me and Niall leave the pack. But I overhear his Beta asking him, "Alpha Regulus, your brother was the one who died in the accident. Why did you claim that you were the one that died?' The sounds of Regulus rapping his knuckles on the desk can be heard. "The elder council had forced me to mark Leah back then. The she-wolf that I've loved all this time has always been Alice. "Besides, Leah has a pup of her own. If I don't fake my death, Alice will be the one left with nothing." As I stand outside the door, I feel my nails digging into my palms. It turns out that my own mate is willing to fake his own death and abandon his own family just so he can return to his beloved she-wolf's side. At the crack of dawn, I place a transfer application on the desk of the elder council. "My personal assets are enough for me to raise my pup. Also, I refuse to be the third wheel in a relationship. Please let us leave the pack."

04:00 AM. JFK International Airport. I switched off airplane mode, and my phone lit up. The first notification was an Instagram story from my husband, Donovan Valentino, Don of the Valentino family, posted at 3:30 AM: a photo of Seraphina Moretti’s back, captioned, “Run 50 completed. Package delivered safe.” An hour before that, my flight had hit catastrophic clear-air turbulence, dropping two thousand feet in seconds. I’d clung to my seatbelt until my knuckles turned white, the crumpled threat letter from a rival crew pressed like a blade against my ribs. In those blind, falling seconds, one thought burned through the panic: If I live through this—if Donovan is waiting at arrivals—I’ll tear up my transfer papers to Dubai and stay. But there were no missed calls. No messages. He’d been too busy collecting Seraphina. He knew my flight details. He just didn’t care. Four years of marriage. 50 fully armed security details for Seraphina. For my 112 long-haul flights over those same four years? The most I ever got was a driver in an unmarked sedan. Even the night Gambino’s crew tailed me from Manhattan, and I spent six hours locked in a diner bathroom. He didn’t pick up until dawn, after the twelfth try. My transfer to Dubai was confirmed. The signed divorce settlement was in my bag. This was the last time I’d ever come back for him.

He was supposed to be a stranger. A bruised, scarred, filthy-mouthed stranger who pinned me against a bathroom wall and made me forget the boy who broke my heart 20 minutes earlier. I walked away first without his name or number, and I didn't look back. Then I found out my mom was engaged. To his dad. Rhys Maddox. Number seventeen. 6'3" of tattoos, bruised knuckles, and the kind of jaw that makes good girls do stupid things. The most dangerous player to ever step on our ice. My one-night stand. My new stepbrother. He doesn't follow rules - he breaks them. On the ice. In my bed. Against every surface in our parents' house while they eat twenty feet away. He calls me "sis" just to watch me squirm. He watches me like he already owns me. And the worst part? He does. Publicly, we're fake dating - a deal to keep my ex-bestfriend away. Privately, we're a stepbrother and stepsister who can't keep our clothes on the second we're alone. It's our biggest secret. Now the boy who I once considered my best friend suddenly wants me back. And the stepbrother who wasn't supposed to mean anything won't let me go. One wants to protect me. One wants to destroy me. And I can't tell which is which anymore. --- For readers 18+ who like their men possessive, their romances FORBIDDEN, and their chapters dripping with filthy, unapologetic spice.

Sold like a circus animal. Collared, forced into misery and self-hatred. With a single blow, she hopes to change her life, only to find herself trapped again. Ocean has no idea what freedom means, but she desires nothing more than a taste of it. The secrets hidden from her will unfold before her eyes, no one can escape the truth. ~~~ The book excerpt: "Here, I have a key to your heart," I left the key in my palm, metal, and skin together. I stumbled upon the ancient artwork in the locker rooms. It caught my attention because it resembles a dagger, so I took it and waited for the perfect opportunity. "Silly girl, that is not the key to my heart. Pathetic attempt." Vladimir growls in disgust. If I'm lucky, I'll be free by the end of the night. Taking the first step toward my destruction, I grin and move my hips in time with the slow music in the background. Vladimir swallows, his Adam's apple bobbles in his throat. The vampire's eyes focus on the crook of my neck as I stop directly in front of him. I place my palm on his chest, guide my fingertips down to his abdominal muscles, a corner of my lip twitches in disgust. When he closes his eyes, I take the opportunity to plunge the key directly into his heart, smiling as his eyes shoot open and he looks down at me in horror. "Are you still convinced I don't have the key to your heart?" I ask, grab him by the collar, and pull him closer. My lips nearly touch his ear as I whisper, "It fits."

In her past life, Aria Vale loved the wrong people. Her stepsister framed her. Her fiancé betrayed her. And on the cold metal of an operating table, Aria died— watching the man who truly loved her take his last breath trying to save her. But fate gives her a second chance. Reborn seven years earlier, Aria returns sharper, colder, and armed with the one thing she never had before— clarity. This time, she refuses to be the Vale family’s sacrificial pawn. To escape their control, she boldly replaces another girl and marries the man everyone in Meridian City mocks: Damian Cross—the “disabled,” unwanted heir. Rumour says he’s powerless. Rumour says he’s cold and useless. Rumour says his own family discarded him. Rumour is wrong. Behind the wheelchair is a man whose power shakes cities— a man hiding his true identity, calculating his rise, and waiting for the right moment to strike. And to everyone’s shock, he chooses to protect Aria. To cherish her. To claim her. As Aria unleashes her hidden brilliance— her beauty, her medical genius, her cold confidence— the people who once mocked her find themselves kneeling at her feet. The scum who destroyed her? This time, she destroys them first. But as her enemies fall one by one, Aria discovers the most dangerous truth of all: Her “disabled” husband isn’t disabled at all… and the gentle man who pampers her by day turns into a possessive wolf by night. This lifetime, Aria rises from ashes to glory. This lifetime, Damian stands by her side as king. And anyone who tries to tear them apart— will learn the meaning of regret.