Rusted Chains Novels & Stories

Damp stone, lots of dirt I couldn't name, and iron. The kind of air that told you right away that this place hadn’t seen sunlight in a long, long time. My eyes snapped open to darkness. For a moment, I didn’t know if they were even open. The pain hit again and I felt another throbbing pulse behind my skull, sharp enough to make me wince but not unconscious this time. My throat felt dry, sandpaper dry, and my wrists I tugged instinctively. Chains. Cold, metal chains. “Perfect,” I muttered, the sound rasping out like a whisper.

Cars cross by, their headlights slicing through the darkness, but it all seems so distant, like I'm watching the unfolding of someone else's life. I open my purse and count the money inside; a few crumpled bills and some coins lie there. It's not enough. Not even close. My throat tightens, the sting of the tears as they threaten to spill over hot on my cheeks. I blink rapidly, willing them away.

It turned with a quiet click. The door groaned as it swung open. And my blood ran cold. The air was heavier here. Stale. Thick. It clung to my skin like a second layer, laced with something metallic beneath the dampness. A single overhead bulb flickered, casting long, distorted shadows across the walls. Chains. Not just one or two but an entire row of them, bolted into the concrete. Some hung loose. Others were pulled taut, as if something—someone—had fought against them.

Chapter nine Laura pov “I’m gonna fuck you so hard they’ll hear you screaming my name, Jett.” His thumb dragged across my lower lip, slow and rough. His wet mouth brushed my ear, my voice low and shaking. “I’m begging you… please.” He pulled back, jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle jumping. His eyes were black with fury and something even worse need. For a second, I thought he might lose it completely. Then, like a switch flipped, he reached up and unlocked the chains around my wrists.

I sucked in a shaky breath, my chest tightening as the air around me was cold and damp against my skin, smelling sharp and metallic, like rust. Rust? I frowned a little, trying to make sense of it while also panicking. Why did it smell like that? Why was it so cold? And most importantly, where the hell was I? My stomach knotted from the unfamiliar scent and the roughness of the ground. I forced my eyes open, but it didn’t help much because everything was dark. My throat felt tight and dry as I groaned, trying to sit up, but the sound of metal clinking sounded again, louder this time and it was louder this time which made me realize that it was coming from me. I looked down at my wrists to se

The gold struck his chest with a hollow clang—louder than it should have been, like the room itself recoiled from the impact. Rhazien flinched again, not from pain, but from the sound—the final, damning punctuation to a mistake he couldn’t take back. The chains clattered to the floor in a tangled heap, gleaming between them like a severed tether, like a vow shattered into pieces. "You want a symbol?" she hissed. "There it is. Pick it up. Melt it. Wear it around your neck if you like—but don’t you ever put it on me again."

Ankles restrained too, but with just enough slack to shift position. Not careless. But not perfect either. I took a slow breath. Observe first. Move later. I tilted my head slightly, letting my eyes adjust fully to the dim light. The chains weren’t thick industrial ones — they were reinforced, but the links were standard. Strong… but not unbreakable. The ring in the wall? Bolted. Four screws. Slight rust around the edges. My lips pressed together. Interesting. I shifted carefully, testing the range of movement. The chain scraped again, but I controlled the sound this time.

The chains respond instantly. They hum — soft, metallic, aware. Moon-forged. Alive. Each link adjusts against my wrists and ankles, tightening just enough to remind me that resistance has already been measured… and accepted. The word slips into my mind without permission. Accepted. My stomach twists. These chains are not punishing me. They are studying me. Preparing me. A faint vibration travels through the floor, so subtle I almost think I imagined it. Dust shifts near the far wall. Shadows flicker, though nothing moves to create them.

A lump formed in my throat, choking off my words. I forced a small smile. "I know." That was all I could manage to say. He frowned and gently brushed his fingers over the stitches. "Does it hurt?" he asked. "You've always had a low pain tolerance." My nose stung. I took a deep, shaky breath, fighting back the wave of emotion. "I'm fine." The words were a struggle to get out. "I'll give you the Moonlight Gem necklace again at the ceremony. We'll do it right, then."