Sans Bones Novels & Stories

He parked his car and approached her. Leon slowed down when he got closer to Selena, noticing that she was tending to a wound on her leg. He could hear her voice asking if she was hurt. Selena looked up upon hearing his voice, and Leon knelt before her, assessing the injuries on her knee and observing a few scars that had already healed. It was the first time he had seen Selena's legs up close, and Leon found them captivating, despite the numerous wounds he saw. As he gazed at her legs, Selena shifted uncomfortably.

Then he steps through. Tall doesn’t even cover it. Seven feet of pure sin wrapped in obsidian skin and black wings that scrape the ceiling of my shitty studio. Curved horns, glowing ember eyes, and a smirk that says he’s already won. “Hello, little mortal,” he purrs, voice like velvet soaked in whiskey. “You rang?” I open my mouth. Nothing comes out. Because he’s naked except for shadows curling around his hips, and oh my god he’s huge everywhere.

Holy fucking bees on a stick, was this man just trying to tempt me because tell me why he was standing here in front of me, shirtless with those damn grey sweatpants? My eyes ran down his body, and goddamn, I had never seen what Adonis looked like. I mean, come on, it was not fair that a man had to look this good. His chest was chiseled, a rock-hard six-pack and a very strong vline, and that delicious trail of hair that led down to his… Desmond cleared his throat. “You see something you like, little menace? You can take a picture if you really want to,” he said.

The last thread of Ethan’s self‑control snapped. He lifted his leg and kicked Olivia hard across the legs. A horrifying scream tore from her throat. Her legs collapsed beneath her, limp and twisted in a way that made it clear they were broken. Her whole body trembled from the pain, yet she still glared at Ethan with venom in her eyes. “Ethan… you are going to pay for this. “You will lose Vivian, your company will collapse, and in the end you will have nothing left.” Ethan stared at her suffering without a trace of pity.

Not the fashion holes that come with jeans now. It is the shoes that look like she walks a hundred miles in them every day. And the shirts that are too faded to recognize the logos that used to grace the front of them. My girl was in serious need of a new wardrobe. I was seriously questioning if Rick provided Danica with anything at all. I know he didn’t provide a sympathetic hand at the hospital. I absolutely know he didn’t pay the hospital bill she ran up in the twenty-four hours she laid there after the accident.

I always thought I was too short and needed heels. “Really? I thought guys liked the tall, leggy blondes best.” “I can't do this with a tall, leggy blonde,” he informed me, stepping close and draping his arm over my shoulder. Goosebumps and want skittered across my skin. I could barely believe that this handsome, funny, man was holding me on a moonlit beach. It seemed too good to be true. The sand was soft and warm under my feet. The travel guides hadn't been kidding when they raved about Caribbean sand. The moon was rising slowly and casting pale, silver light on every wave. Everything had a magical glow that made anything seem possible.

he stated as he was about to throw up his arms in defeat. “Mitsuhide I didn’t go there. They came here.” she said. “So they are teleporting bones?” he asked not believing her. “They did.” she said. “Synavenna, bones cant teleport.” he said. “Mitsuhide hold out your hand.” she said. “It doesn’t matter which one.” She closed her eyes and walked out of the main chamber of the room to where she was still seen by him. She was facing away when one of the bones moved closer to him. It was shattered and splintered and in moved slowly across the room to lay right by his feet.

Outside the glass window, the rolling green hills of the northern French countryside blurred into a watercolor of emerald and gray, completely untouched by the supernatural rot that had almost drowned London forty-eight hours ago. She sat stiffly against the plush velvet seat, her forearms tightly wrapped in fresh, clinical white bandages. The splints were gone, replaced by a specialized compression weave that Marcus had procured from a sympathetic medical contact in the British underground, but the bone marrow still burned with a dull, persistent heat. It was a strange, split sensation. Her skeleton felt fragile, like hollow glass, yet the skin over her wrists pricked with the newly sproute

The morning light streams through sheer curtains. She isn’t in her usual form, but Sienna doesn’t let that stop her. A faded tank top and loose cotton shorts hug her frame, revealing patches of pink, healing scars across her arms and legs. Her head, once crowned with thick, flowing hair, is now bald beneath layers of white gauze. The bandages wrap snugly, almost lovingly, around her scalp. She hasn’t yet adjusted to seeing herself in the mirror, but Osborne’s steady presence makes it easier.

Some sensation was back to my body, but just enough to barely move. “How is she doing? Check on her.” Cain turned to bones, something about his voice sent chills down my spine. I took in his appearance, eye bags, his hair fell over his face rough and unkept, he looked older than when I had seen him last. Bones didn't even bother touching me before speaking, “She's out of danger for now. But we have to watch her more closely, the attack could come at any time, anywhere too, I don't know if it'd become even more frequent, only time will tell.”