Of His Bones Ao3 Novels & Stories

I climbed onto it and waited, heart hammering in my chest. Andre took his time. Nearly thirty minutes passed before he entered the room. He had changed into a black robe that hung open, revealing his sculpted chest and the hard line of his cock already thickening again. "Look at you," he said, voice low and rough. "Waiting for me like a good little whore. Spread your legs." I obeyed, parting my thighs wide. His eyes darkened as he stared at my exposed pussy. "Still dripping my cum," he murmured with satisfaction. "Good. I want you marked with me at all times."

His hair was slowly turning grey— all the marks that have been hiding in the depths of the hair in his skin began glowing with a piercing blue colour that spread across his whole body. Peculiar bones that were non-human began protruding on the surface of his back— cracking as they cut through his skin. Some showed up on the trial of his spinal cord. "It doesn't matter what the cost is, I will set you free. I am close my tulip!" In a voice that did not belong to him, Liam roared, expressing every syllable with audible indignation. — [MEANWHILE] Boots hit against the wet, begrimed ground, throbbing as the owner walked by with smooth, calculated footfalls.

Aurora’s P.O.V He glanced over at the skeleton in the glass case, the hollow, lifeless figure of the person who had mattered most to me in this world. It stood there, cold and unmoving, a grotesque reminder of everything that was wrong with this place, with Lucas.

Biting the inside of my cheeks, I tilt to TanBear. His face is bloodshot. The type he has before he rips your tongue from your throat. Or when he fucked me twenty-years ago I sat on ice for days. He’s so destructively handsome: Bones sculpted like stone, eye of a predator, and hairy as a Bear. Aurora said he had Spartan blood. For me? He’s beyond that classification. He’s mine in progress. That’s why I couldn’t watch him being humiliated. I’ll let all the Yakuza’s fuck me if it saves a hair on head.

He took one step back. Not far. Just enough for his father. But enough to break something inside me. General GreyBone approached next— his expression unreadable but too composed for a man who had just seen monsters slaughtered in a courtyard. His eyes flicked to the darkness swirling around my hands, to the scorch marks on the stone. “Ava Varyn,” he said, almost gently. “Lower your hands.” “I’m trying,” I whispered. “I don’t know how to stop it.” “Then don’t move,” he murmured. “Not even a breath. You’re unstable.”

“I am what he became. What the Oath carved from him. What he carved from himself.” It stepped closer, bones clicking. “I am the memory of him you carry.” Lyra’s throat tightened. “Why show me this? Why him?” “Because bone is truth.” The skull leaned forward. “Blood lies. Flesh bends. Only bone remembers.” Lyra took a shaky breath. “And what does it remember about me?” The skeleton lifted a hand, each joint turning with delicate menace. “Everything.” *** The world erupted. The skeleton lunged faster than thought. Lyra dodged instinctively, rolling across the bone floor as shards of ribcage cracked where she’d been standing. The creature struck again, and again—each swing heavy with the force

Then, a large tubular raft. Again, his distracted attention caused August minor trouble. His feet shifted and he slipped. He reached out as the wall ran out but nothing existed to hold on to. His heart racing, he thought himself falling into eternity, but that only lasted a few moments. He crashed into what felt like a series of thin branches, some of which broke as his backside crashed and his body flipped over. August twisted on his sheathed gladius, and swore, then begged his God for forgiveness for his outburst. Hands flexing, August thought he swam in piles of leaves, but soon he gripped tight on something solid. In each hand he raised up a similar object. “Bones,” August said to no one

Kael flinched as the silver storm of bones circled me. The violet veins on his neck pulsed with a frantic, irregular rhythm. He reached out to grab me, his fingers clawing at the air, but the shards of ancestral bone acted like a barrier. Every time his skin brushed the silver light, a hiss of steam erupted, smelling of burnt hair and old prayers.

"You are pack. You are mine. Tonight, we seal it. Once the knot is tied, not even death can sever the bond." He lowered his head, nuzzling into the crook of my neck. He inhaled deeply, his nose brushing the sensitive skin below my ear. "You smell like rain and fear," he murmured, his voice vibrating against my throat. "And heat. So much heat." He was right. I was burning up. It felt like my blood was boiling, bubbling just beneath the surface of my skin. "It hurts," I admitted, my voice trembling. "My bones... they ache."

Soon, he found that these three long things were bones. On the surface of each bone, a few words were engraved. The lustrous white bone was the Bone of Wind, the fiery red one was the Bone of Flame, and the ice-blue was the Bone of Thunder. When he got close to the Bone of Wind, Caspian immediately felt a gust of strong wind blowing on him. When he got close to the Bone of Flame, Caspian immediately felt the high temperature as if it was magma, which made his skin burn. Then, Caspian's eyes lit up when he approached the Bone of Thunder.