Shackles Song Novels & Stories

I wouldn’t have to worry about the official rejection, my father was going to make sure that I wouldn’t live to see the end of this week, let alone to see either of my mates again. “Sorry, Athea. Alpha’s orders. Please forgive us.” the warrior said as he shackled my wrist with the silver shackles that hung from the joist above. They were designed to pull your wrist and make you hang. Shifting would only cause further injury as they were crossed and the silver would weaken the shifter. Also, hanging could cause death. I was at a loss about this. There was no possibility of escape now.

The dungeon door closed again and I was left alone with Ramine's corpse for the second time. I tried to break out of the chains but it was useless just like before. During this time, I was nearly not as strong as I am right now. I had been rendered completely powerless because I would be unable to shift into my wolf thanks to the shackle around my neck. The shackle around my neck was no ordinary shackle. Alpha Waylen and Tanika were working hand in hand with an outcast witch. The witch had spelled the neck shackle so that as long as it was around my neck, it would lock in and restrain my wolf.

The sound…was that of chains. She dipped her hand inside the bag and her fingers began to tremble as they retreated with his ‘gift’. “S-Shackles?” “Mhmm. They’re not too easy to break, thankfully.” She heard Kain draw close behind her, his body pressing against her back as he peeped over her shoulder. “Its for you. I was hoping you’d like it…” His hand moved around, grasping her trembling one. “…and it seems like you do.” He bought the shackles yesterday in the midst of his anger, still he didn’t want to have to use it. But…it seemed like what he was trying to ignore was happening. She…was changing. And he’d be damned if he allowed the same thing to happen all over again.

Both my wrists and ankles were shackled. My once-pure white wedding dress was now covered in dust. My makeup had long since smeared beyond recognition. The metal shackles were heavy, their edges sharp. Even the slightest struggle sent stabbing pain through my skin, as if it were about to be cut open. If I moved again, my wrists and ankles would soon start bleeding. Realizing this, I gasped for breath and stopped struggling. Not long after, the door opened. Mr. Holloway walked in, followed by two tall, muscular bodyguards.

"Something that should have happened a long time ago." I pulled against the shackles, testing them. The metal screamed in protest, and cracks spider-webbed across their surface. "I'm done being their victim. I'm done being weak. I'm done being afraid of what I am."

My legs shook, but I managed to stand up straight. "Don’t pull her so hard," the first guard snapped, "you'll make her fall before we get to the gate." The other one just sneered. "She's a traitor. She should just die here." I didn't say a word. I knew it was useless; they never listened to me. They finally unlocked the shackles from my wrists for the first time. The heavy chains fell off, leaving deep red marks on my skin. I traced the marks with my fingernails, and it felt so strange without the weight of the metal.

Embarrassment? "Now, I want all of you to shackle yourselves," he says. Then he caresses the whip at his hip to make his point known. The ten of us pick up the shackles and the others fastens it around their ankles. I stay frozen and stare at the silvery shackles, the very thing that makes me a slave. These shackles are the objects that hold me bounded. "Is anything the problem?" The taskmaster raises is brows at me. I swallow. I reach for the shackles, their cold metal stings me.

she said. I turned to her, my body stiff. “Excuse me?” She tilted her head, her dark eyes glinting. “Take off your clothes.” I clenched my fists. “If this is some kind of—” “It’s not,” she interrupted smoothly. “But if you want to survive here, you’re going to have to let go of whatever shame you’re still clinging to. Clothes, Winnie. Now.” I swallowed hard, my throat dry. My hands trembled as I reached for the hem of my dress, my heart pounding in my chest. I had been exposed before. I had been stripped of dignity more times than I could count. But this felt different.

It hurt that I had to be shackled, but what hurt the most was that it was my mate doing this. "Fuck." I heard him mutter under his breath. My hand was hoisted up and the chain around my wrist loosened. "Let's go." I wiped the tears from my cheeks as I stood up and followed him. I refused to look at him. I didn't know which was better, the chain or the shackle. Because regardless of what I had, they both meant the same thing - I was nothing but a mere rogue to him. ⇜ ♡♡♡ ⇝

“Your all just a bunch of conniving rich snakes who don’t care about anyone but themselves.” I sit motionless in paralytic fear and despair as they grab my arms, and I flinch as frigid metal prisoning bracelets snap onto each wrist, nearly pinching my skin. The clang of wriggly chains encourages me to finally look and see the cuffs that are fastened to my hands, which are then connected by shackles built into the wall my back is pressed against.