Tails X Knuckles Novels & Stories

"Don't let go of this table for a second." I gripped the wood desperately, my knuckles turning stark white. The command felt like a lifeline, something solid to anchor me as everything else spun out of control. My fingers traced the carved patterns in the wood, memorizing their shape, using them to tether myself to reality. Jaxx stepped up directly behind me, his massive, heated frame completely pressing against my bare backside. He leaned down, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of my neck, trailing slow, biting kisses all the way up to my earlobe.

The total bastard. "Hey, Sunshine," Knox called out, raising his glass. Nicole pointed a finger directly at his face, her arm shaking violently. "I will literally kill you." Knox laughed so hard his whiskey nearly spilled over his knuckles. Tess immediately reached across the taps and smacked the back of his head, hard. "Ow," Knox grunted, rubbing his skull. "You deserved that," Tess stated flatly, grabbing a clean towel. "I absolutely did," Knox agreed, his grin never fading.

"Do you not have a pre-calculus app to attend to? We are running late." Leo didn't look up from his screen, but he pointed a small, accusing finger toward my hand. "The proximal phalanges of your index and middle fingers. The hair follicles are dark, coarse, and possess a density that is statistically improbable for a female of your supposed age and demographic. It suggests a high level of free testosterone." "Leo, what are you talking about?" Luna asked, leaning in closer, her nose almost touching my hand. "She has hairy knuckles, Luna," Leo said flatly. "Like a werewolf. Or a lumberjack. Or... a man."

Zachary rolled up his sleeves, showing his strong forearms, and clenched his fists as his metacarpals and phalanges gave off a cracking sound. It seemed that a fierce battle was about to take place. All of a sudden, a deep baritone suddenly sounded out of nowhere.

Not surface pain — deep pain, the specific ache of things rearranging themselves into configurations they weren't in before. By Body Tempering Level 3, my knuckles had stopped splitting. Not because they toughened — because the skin itself had changed, the underlying structure denser, less breakable. By Level 4, achieved on the morning of day eight against the stone pillar at the market's northern entrance before Madam Gu's vegetable supplier arrived, my fists hit stone and the stone felt the impact more than I did. I looked at my hands afterward. The knuckles were smooth. No scarring. Just a faint, almost imperceptible luminescence under the skin — the Ki pathways of the Iron River Scriptur

In fact, in his jacket pocket, Lucas was clenching his fists so tightly, his knuckles turned white and his fingernails dug into the flesh of his palms. ***

The pad of Gunner's thumb was wide and rough. Rough in the specific way that came from years of gripping a stick and throwing punches, calloused and broad, and entirely unlike the careful softness Khyle might have expected from someone tending to an injury. It scraped, just barely, against the small split skin of his lip, a contrast so stark between the size of the touch and the size of what it was touching that Khyle's whole body seemed to recalibrate around it.

"What I said was I don't need *you* to be afraid." Cain's hand did not move beneath hers. Her fingers pressed down one by one on the back of his hand. As if counting something. His knuckles arched slightly under her palm. The second joint of his index finger bore the thick callus of a sword grip. The third joint of his middle finger carried an old blade scar. The edge of his pinky held a thin patch of chilblain scarring. In the same position as the faint red mark on the webbing of her thumb.

Safe. Knox sits in the chair beside my bed, still wearing his tuxedo but it's wrecked—bow tie gone, collar unbuttoned, sleeves pushed to his elbows. There's something dark on his white cuff. Blood, maybe. His hair is disheveled like he's been running his hands through it for hours. His eyes lock onto mine—wild, relieved, furious. "In through your nose," he says, voice rough and controlled. "Four counts. Hold it. Out through your mouth for six. Do it."

She imagined that the underground garage was a courtroom. Amy perfected the ax kick during her UFC fighting days. The ax kick was a Taekwondo fighting move that involved the leg being raised from the outside of the body like an outside crescent kick. Then the leg was pulled down with the heel pointed downward. The ax kick would typically be targeted toward the opponent’s head, his shoulder, or his chest, and it required significant flexibility and balance to employ effectively. Amy had significant flexibility and balance, which made it easy for her to deliver the ax kick. She knew the ax kick was best used against the collarbone, which could break easily, but she brought the heel of her foot