The One Who Shall Grip Novels & Stories

It rips from his throat. I hear the scraping of his boots on the floorboards. He is rushing me from behind. I turn my torso. His claws are out. Black points grip the air, aiming straight for my eyes. He is slow. I slide my left foot back. I let his momentum carry him past my shoulder. My right hand shoots out. I catch his thick wrist mid-swing. My grip locks like a iron vice around his bone. "Let go!" he roars. I do not let go.

Her hands which had been hanging loosely around my shoulders were now gripping on the material of my shirt in a firm grip. I gripped the back of her throat firmly after a few seconds, holding her against me with my other hand which was still around her hip, as she shuddered in response to the domineering grip I currently had at the back of her throat. I flexed my fingers around her nape a little, tightening my hold and loosening it after a few seconds, and I enjoyed every bit of how she was responding to this little amount of ministration this intensely.

His hand shot out, seizing Jake by the back with an iron grip that brooked no resistance. In one swift motion, he seized Jake's free hand, twisting it with an intensity that bordered on the supernatural. A guttural howl of pain erupted from Jake's lips, a chilling sound that pierced through the chaos. The sheer force of his hold reverberated through the air, commanding attention and leaving no room for defiance. It was a silent proclamation of authority that echoed with unspoken consequences.

I fake a struggle to get him off, allowing him to think he has me. When he loosens his grip, I reach up and grab his jaw with my opposite hand and squeeze until his jaw bones groan and creak, his teeth puncturing my fingers as I glare into his wolf’s eyes. He whimpers, releasing my flesh, but I cling to him, jolting forward as he tries to yank free from my grip.

I twisted my arm, trying to break free, but his grip was surprisingly strong. "Let go of me, Dexter!" I yelled, my voice rising in alarm. He plavced his hand over my mouth and laughed, a low, guttural sound that sent shivers down my spine. "What's the matter, Davina? Afraid of a little fun?" His grip tightened further, and he tried to pull me closer, his other hand reaching out towards me. You're practically asking for it." His grip tightened further, his other hand reaching out, his fingers brushing against my bare shoulder in a way that made my stomach churn.

“River and Permiton, take her left hand together. Brook and Akin, her right.” They do. River’s fingers are warm and steady. Permiton’s are cold and trembling, but they curl firmly around mine. On the other side, Brook’s palm is slightly damp, but he tightens his grip without hesitation. Akin’s hand is solid, sure, grounding. Their fingers link across mine. And then, one by one, they reach out for each other. Akin clasps River’s hand, River clasps Brook’s, Brook clasps Permiton’s, and Permiton clasps Akin’s. The circle is complete.

And I would always feel empty. The only difference was I also had to endure the punches I received from Clenk with the emptiness. “Oh, what is this? Some sort of joke? You are pathetic.” Clenk ranted as he held my wrist firmly and examined my bracelet that shone brightly. “Take it off or I will take it off myself...along with your stupid arm.” Clenk threatened as he pulled he tried to pull the bracelet in vain, only succeeding in bruising my arm. “You little piece of trash.” Alex, who had finally gotten to his feet, yelled furiously as he charged at Clenk.

The words hung in the air, a challenge, a declaration of war. With that, I spun on my heel, turning my back to him. But before I could take a step forward, he was there, his presence like a wall behind me. His hand shot out, grabbing my forearm, stopping me in my tracks. His grip was firm, unyielding. a hand that grips my arm and squeezes too tight. . He caught me and I felt an inmes pressure on my arm and had a vise-like grip on my arm. He could rip my arm out of my torso.My heart was pounding out of my chest. He could hear it.

Jordan's grip. “This is mine!”

I scream, twisting my body, trying to squirm out of his grip. Colton lets out a low, warning growl that vibrates deep in his chest. His large hand flies out, wrapping firmly around both of my wrists in a single grip, pinning my hands flat against the wooden wall above my head. He holds me there effortlessly with one hand, completely neutralizing my struggles.