The Chain Book Review Novels & Stories

I almost convinced myself I had been overthinking everything. Then, a faint scent of a woman's perfume, not mine, wafted from his collar. My spine went rigid. I tilted my head, my eyes falling on his deep blue suit jacket. There, a smudge of crimson lipstick was almost perfectly hidden. My gaze recoiled as if burned. My breathing hitched. "Well, I should be going..." I rushed home and sat in the bedroom, unable to move. The sun set and the room fell into a deep darkness. I didn't bother with the lights.

The council put it down to an oversight, either the Silversmith’s were the first to discover the weakness in the lands border… or it had never been written down. They sealed the entrance at the human end, and caved it in at different points. It would never be used to their enemies advantage again. It was hard for the council to admit that the Silversmith’s had outsmarted them, it was a well oiled plan that they luckily brought to a halt. Strategy was noted and documented for use if ever needed. When you almost fail, you must learn and improve, it had been a good learning opportunity for Marc as King.

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The key to breaking it all. Miyal's heart pounded in his chest, every beat a throb of agony echoing the straining grip of the chains binding him. He felt them move, twist, drawing him forward, propelling him toward the center of the tempest. The power of the wards and the fury of combat sought to engulf him, but the chain his anchor held firm. It was both his curse and his blessing. It had always been so, hadn't it? The chain that held him, that ruled him, now called to him now toward destiny, compelling him to complete that which had started.

Ezra asked. Sarah walked up to the Sofa and grabbed some sheets and covered herself. She cleared her throat and softly read the book. Ezra opened his eyes. "Not that book," he yelled. Sarah rolled her eyes. "I asked you to specify the book, but you asked me to choose," she pointed. "I said change the book," Ezra was almost yelling. Sarah got up, irritated, and picked up a book about the stock market and began reading it. Ezra closed his eyes, the voice was not the same as the one that calmed him down.

“Back up. Tell me how it started with Chain. You stayed out of loyalty, even when things turned bad?” “Yeah.” She took a shaky breath. “We were out in the fields, prepping crops for winter storage. Chain strolled in holding this heavy silver chain, links thick and twisted. One of the guys, Gus, was messing around, lightening the mood with some laughs. Chain went straight to him, said no one wasted time joking on his watch.” The scene played vivid in her mind; she rubbed her arms instinctively. “He swung that chain like a lash. I waited for his wolf to surge up and stop him but nothing. He’d figured it out.”

They can’t hurt what they can’t see. I did not drop it. I raised it. And I looked—not at the chains, not at the monster’s arms—but at its chest. At the place where all those books fused into a roughly rib‑like cage. At the single, massive volume wedged dead center: a heavy, iron‑clasped tome that hadn’t moved once, even when the rest of its body shifted. Its “heart.” “That,” I gasped, pointing with the pen. “Its heart is a locked book—pry it open!”

One grabbed my wrist; the other locked metal around it. “No—get off!” I struggled, but the second shackle snapped into place before I could pull away. The metal tightened on its own, digging into my skin like it was alive. “Let go!” I twisted, reaching for my power only to feel it slip through me like water. The chains were choking it, smothering it. One of the men laughed. The other grabbed the book “Give that back!” My voice cracked, loud enough to shake the trees. I lunged, fingers brushing the spine, but the chain jerked me back hard enough to send me stumbling.

Renn's silence answered. My blood turned cold. "No." The old scholar slowly nodded. "The First Chain was never meant to imprison it." A distant explosion echoed from somewhere in the valleys below. Neither of us looked. Neither of us cared. Because suddenly the destruction of the kingdom felt insignificant. A tiny part of a much larger nightmare. "The First Chain," Renn whispered, "holds something else." Something moved behind us. Fast. Both of us jumped to our feet instantly. Weapons drawn. The survivors scrambled awake.

“This looks more like chains and not loyalty.” Matt's face hardened and his jaw tightened, but he gave a calm reply. “ You barely know him, and yet you judge him so easily. You have no idea what he has carried, what he has built, how many lives he has saved. The rogue pack would not be a thing if not for Arthur.” Silver shook her head in disbelief and said. “ I find that hard to believe, considering that my pack was burning and under attack, and his first course of action was to refuse to help us. To act like lives mean nothing to him.”