Risky Boots Novels & Stories

“What do you mean, I have to wear this? I’ve worn nothing like this before. I don’t know if I can walk in these.” Tara held up a pair of high-heeled silver scrappy sandals. “It’s one thing to be a complete shoe or boot with a heel. But these are begging to break my ankle the first crack in the sidewalk I find. Or I’ll miss a stair and end up on my head at the bottom of the stairs.”

I waited a few more endless minutes to be sure. As soon as I was convinced I was alone, I came cautiously out from behind the bush. I knew I needed to leave right away. I couldn’t risk being found by another wolf out there. But I couldn’t go back home without my boots. Father had given them to me a year ago, and if I showed up without them, he would give me a taste of his belt and have me spend the winter barefoot. I rolled up my dress around my waist and slid into the pond’s cold water, hoping the damned boots were stuck among the rocks and roots by the bank, and the river hadn’t carried them away.

she says, and disappears into the back office before I can ask what first things are. She comes back with a scuffed pair of steel-toed boots two sizes too big for me, a flashlight with dead batteries rattling inside it, and a folding knife she sets down like it's nothing, like handing a pregnant rogue a knife is the most ordinary thing in the world. "Every wolf who walks in here gets the same three things their first night," she says, before I can ask. "Boots, because you never know when you'll need to run somewhere the ground isn't kind. Flashlight, because it's the cheapest way to remind yourself the dark isn't permanent. Knife, because you should never again be in a room where the only we

cotton had been good. But the boots were Shamira's idea. If she was going to be forced to endure this weirdness, why not get one good pair of footwear out of it? She was a western girl at (her non-beating) heart, so she'd always wanted a nice pair of cowboy boots. She had ordered a pair of hand-made, hand-tooled Leggenda Collection Lucchese black-leather boots for the low, low price of $1500. Shane's pockets ran deep, and the boots would be shipped directly to his address.

"Shift once while wearing them and bye bye boots." I give him a small shoulder push to get him moving. Once he's settled, I twist around, bringing my legs up, and begin pulling on the leather. I can tell as soon as my feet slide home that they fit perfectly. "They don't look any different than the military boots I gave you." "Sacrilege." I run my fingers over the leather. "These babies have PVC air-cushioned soles. They're indestructible." King whistles. "One emergency Shadow Warrior shift and you'll discover you shouldn't be too excited about footwear, and when that happens, no footwear is indestructible."

Falcon kissed her cheek. "I guess it's settled then," Theo sighed. DJ slammed the trunk shut. "Now if you've packed all your ghost-friendly shoes, then it's time for us to go." "Excuse me?" Falcon snapped. "My footwear is strictly high fashion. These are glitter-laced House of Delamort boots from their post-apocalyptic couture line." "Your boots are louder than a banshee with IBS," Cameron growled. "They'll get us all killed. Plus, I don't know where you think we are going that you think you’ll need a whole damn suitcase that’s probably packed with nonsense."

“You have to take a risk sometime. Might as well be for a ride on Jon fucking Moretti.” Sienna’s glass had been plonked onto the coffee table now, her usual calm composure frazzled as she rolled her eyes exasperatedly. “Bungee jumping and all that shit is regulated, Anja. What you’re trying to do right now is send our friend home with a dangerous fucking criminal. How can you be so nonchalant about this shit?”

A few times, my wolf threatened to come forth, but I was in better control of it. I got a pair of Jogging boots from last night's shopping. Before now, I jogged on my ten toes, surely obscure, but when I saw humans run just as I did one on the side of the street, or on the bridge over a river, they did put that on. I found the design fascinating so I got mine, a pair of black boots.

“Nope. Not me. Anyone else, sure, but all the Mothers know how much I like the outdoors.” “True,” Rain admitted. She had taken her shoes off when she was changing; now, she considered whether or not to put on her sneakers or something more durable. Considering the precipitation they’d gotten the day before, she said, “I’ll get my boots. “ Mist nodded, and Rain stood, hoping whatever it was Mist had found would be worth the risk.

I warn breathily. He ignores me and grabs my ankle, pulling off my boots. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re blocking the path forward, and we need to get off this route before nightfall or we’ll be vulnerable to the elements and rogues.” His fingers adeptly massage the area around my ankle and he raises his gaze to mine. “I’ll need to put it back in place. You might want to bite down on something.” I shoot him a cocky look. “I can take the pain.”