Sister In Arms Meaning Novels & Stories

The name hung in the air like a thread suspended between two needles—fragile, glinting, impossible to ignore. Cassian’s eyes darkened—not with anger, but with something far sharper. Recognition gave way to calculation, his posture straightening as if a weight had locked into place across his shoulders. “Briar,” he repeated, quiet and clipped. He stepped back, just slightly, like putting distance would help him see her more clearly. “You’re Erec’s sister.” Eden flinched at the name. It sounded foreign coming from Cassian’s mouth. Heavy. Accusatory.

Richard shot back, taking a step closer. “You’re not my mother. You’re not even my sister. So who the hell do you think you are, huh?” He jabbed a finger at me. “Don’t forget, Aurora—the only position you hold here in the Hawthorne family is being my brother’s fuckin’ wife!” I slapped his hand away, eyes blazing. “Don’t push me, Richard.” Soft heels tapped down the stairs—Ruby. “My dear sister, why are you such a horrible woman?” she said with fake sweetness, voice dripping with venom.

I arch an eyebrow, amused by the term. "Not blood sisters," he clarifies quickly. "Soul sisters. They were orphans too." I glance over at Brax, who remains silent, his expression unreadable. Clearly, he hadn’t heard about this "sisterhood" either. I turn my attention back to the boy, leaning in a little closer. "So, these 'sisters'—they’re close to Arwyn?" He fidgets, avoiding my gaze. "Yeah, I guess. They looked out for each other. Arwyn always made sure they had food, made sure they were safe."

Amara insisted, turning quickly to Isabella for backup. Isabella stepped closer, her expression warm. "If I'm allowed to join, I'll take Saturday off. Amara's my new friend, and I wouldn't miss her big day for the world. Besides, the activity's about making sweets, isn't it? That's my specialty. Who knows-we might even win together." Amara's eyes lit up, and she gasped before blurting out, "As a big family! Daddy said you're his step-sister, so that makes you my aunty. You're family, right?"

Aaron’s voice dropped lower, colder, “she’s a woman. One you’ve already broken enough. If you won’t let go because I’m telling you to, let go because I won’t stand here and watch you hurt a woman.” My breath caught. The weight of his words pressed against me, heavier than Justin’s grip. I felt like I wasn’t standing alone. Justin’s fingers trembled against my arm before he shoved me away, his glare swinging between us. “You think you’re some kind of hero, Aaron?” His voice cracked with bitterness. “Don’t fool yourself.” I stumbled back, clutching my arm, my skin burning where his hand had been. Aaron’s body shifted in front of mine, a shield I didn’t ask for but desperately needed.

As she raised her head, she found herself staring down the tip of her own spear. “Stop!" The match was over. Our sisters pulled themselves from their hiding places and picked themselves off the ground. It started as one clap then two and soon there was a thunderous applause. The sister withdrew her spear and picked her opponent off the ground. They hugged and congratulated each other, laughing at the destruction that was left in their wake. I smiled. Nothing was better than sisterhood. Too bad I was going to miss it all. “Niylah!" Artemisia barked her name and she stepped forward. Young, energetic, her poise commanding yet graceful, just like her mentor.

Go fix her right now! "Otherwise, don't blame me for not recognizing you as my brother!" It had been less than thirty minutes, yet Charlotte already knew. Other than Liam, I couldn't think of anyone else who would have told her. As for this sister of mine–ever since she kicked me in the chest for Liam, I had already given up on her. My voice turned cold. "I should be the one saying I don't have a heartless sister like you." Ignoring the shock on her face, I kicked her out the door.

Defenseless against Archer's fabricated lies, I could only lower my head and tremble. By the time Mom and Dad rushed over and stood before me, they were already wielding their respective weapons. "How dare you bring up your brother, you jinx!" "Archer is your brother. You owe your brother so much. You'll never be able to repay him in this lifetime!" Before I could make a sound, Dad kicked me squarely in the chest. "Why weren't you the one who died? Why don't you just drop dead, you jinx?"

The name on the screen was a ghost, a phantom limb that had been aching in Marcus Thorne’s soul for a decade. Ariana. His brilliant, ambitious, reckless older sister. The woman who had vanished in a fire, a tragedy that had shattered his family and sent him spiraling into the cold, disciplined world of the military, a world where emotion was a liability.

There was an awkward silence for a moment and then they started chatting again. “We heard your pack was under attack by the wailing brides,” Zion couldn’t hold back his urge to know more about it. He was afraid the wailing brides will start terrorizing others soon too, I can smell his fear from far away. “Yes! They tried,” Aramis answered, “Your sister is one heck of a warrior, she killed him,” he mentioned me with a smirk but I didn’t return him the favor back. I was not interested in collecting compliments. However, the look on my family’s faces was worth watching. They shared glances and then turned to me.