Spell Disheveled Novels & Stories

Babi pov I went in to change but I wanted to take a shower so I headed towards the washroom. Maybe it was because of tequila I wasn’t feeling a little bit dizzy. I felt like I was walking on a tight-fitted rope. My mind was under full control but my body was on its own. It wasn’t working as it planned. I saw soap lying on the floor and I panicked like hell. It was already really hard to walk straight, and as soon as I saw soap, in an attempt to dodge it I fell on the floor really badly.

she whispered, her voice trembling. “It’s okay,” he murmured back, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging within him. “Everything will be fine.” When they finally pulled apart, Delilah’s eyes roamed over the King, taking in his disheveled appearance. He was shirtless, his chiseled chest glistening with sweat, though his pants were intact. She smiled faintly, a hint of warmth breaking through the tension. But there was no time for distractions. The King’s expression turned serious as he began to explain.

“Of all the things you’ve been saying to me, how many of them sound reasonable?” “All of them.” Kilvic nodded. Of course she would think so. “And how many of them would you have said to me when we left the tavern?” “All off…” she trailed of in realization, then turned to the others who were now moaning on the floor. “Discordance spell,” she finally said. An observation. He nodded. “Undo it.” “In my current state of mind?!” she snapped. “Who knows what could happen. And who did this to us?”

Her exertion managing to gouge a sizable tear, Chiri growled a spell he had heard her practice before aloud. “Despi.” Hissing the command through her gritted teeth, it seemed to fester in the wound she had carved. The skin around it began to dissolve into a flurry of black dust, it spread. Eating away at the effected area voraciously it rapidly feed on the creature until its muscles became clearly left open to the salty air.

The hum had deepened into a pulse, uneven and wrong, as though the room itself had grown a heartbeat. “Lily.” Kaid’s voice was tight. “Something’s wrong. Is it supposed to do that?” I stood instantly, every nerve in my body on edge. “No,” I whispered. “It isn’t.” “Purple means destabilization.” I said rushing to help. “What does that mean?” Kaid demanded. “It means the spell’s tearing itself apart!” I dropped my book and began chanting, hands weaving frantically through the air. “If they don’t come out soon, they’ll be lost inside her mind forever.”

My resolves breaks into fragments of dusts. Goddess help me because I am totally fucked. -----

“He’s… asleep.” [B… I’m your best friend, right?] “Yes.” [Then you can tell me anything. I know your marriage isn’t easy. Now tell me honestly, are you okay?] She knew me too well. “I’m okay… maybe a little shaken. He just… shouted earlier.” [What?! Why?] I ended up telling her the whole story. I couldn’t lie to her. “It’s my fault…” I whispered when I finished. [No. It’s not your fault. You’re not close enough to know his allergies yet. Don’t blame yourself. Tss. Didn’t you get hurt?]

Coco mimicked the children's chorus in SpongeBob intro song. * Vivian lay on her bed which was covered with dresses of all brands and fashion while her best friend, more like, partner in crime, debated on which dress would look good on her. "Why don't you try this emerald green dress," Yulia chirped, the dress was a bodycon with a deep V neck and a two thigh high slit on both sides of the dress. Vivian glanced at the dress before showing a look of disgust and turning her head away, Yulia frowned and threw the dress away before going for another.

I try to prevent myself from looking at her, nervous to see her afraid of Sincere. “What was that?” Her voice trembles. “That is a She-Shifter,” I answered, getting on to my feet and accessing the damage in the bathroom. Her wall would need to be redone. The bathroom would need a good scrub, and Hannah… well, poor Hannah. “Have a maid bring up some rags and the duster.”

Shards of glass glittered across the expensive gray velvet carpet. A crystal glass had just slammed into the wall of Tristan Vance's suite, shattering into countless pieces along with the crown prince's ragged breathing. "Damn it! Damn you, Vivienne!" Tristan cursed in a low voice trembling with overwhelming anger. His black hair, usually perfectly styled, was now disheveled from frustration. He gripped the edge of his dressing table, staring at his own reflection in the mirror, his eyes blazing with fury. His broad chest rose and fell unevenly.