The One Who Shall Grip Novels & Stories

Her mouth opened slowly: "Grisha! She is coming to destroy everything you have built! She holds greater power than all of us combined! She is going to destroy you!" She informed in a voice far deeper than her usual calm and warm tone! Her eyes slowly fluttered close, her grip on my wrist loosened and her body went limp! Leaving me confused, hurt, and baffled! The chanting of the spell continued; until they said the final words. 'May the devil rest her soul'

His large, thick hand moved from my hair down to the back of my neck. His hand closed around my nape in a crushing grip. He squeezed the muscles at the base of my neck just hard enough to make a sharp gasp escape my throat. The pressure was firm, heavy, and absolute. It was the exact grip a predator used to hold down its prey so it could not turn around or fight back. He pushed my face downward toward the carpet, forcing me into a position of complete, physical submission.

I expected him to flinch or worse to duck my slap because apparently he was taller than me. Instead, with lightning-fast reflexes, his hand shot out mid-air. His long fingers clamped tightly around my wrist like a steel vice, stopping my hand mere inches from his skin. Gasps echoed sharply from my friends standing right behind me. I tried to yank my hand back, pulling with all my might, but his grip didn't budge an inch. It was like trying to pull away from a concrete wall. He leaned down just a little, his dark eyes locking onto mine. His eyes looked so cold like there was no life in it. “Don’t you dare,” he whispered lowly.

I whimper, helpless in the restraint of sensation, caught between frustration and bliss. Nathan’s hand remains at my throat, not squeezing but holding, grounding me as the rest of me feels like it might float away. His other hand grips my thigh, spreading me open, keeping me displayed like a prize. His grip is firm, possessive, and I can’t tell whether it steadies me or simply winds me tighter. Then Theo rises from his seat.

Tortured. Find my apprentice. Find Quin Kaylus. Capax Infiniti. Breathing heavily, he forcefully grabbed the shoulder of the blonde woman and intensely looked at her straight in the eyes. A low guttural sound escaped his mouth, as he hissed. "Now, tell me! Where the hell is this ceremony going to be?!," he snapped at the woman without being aware that he shouted loudly, his mind overwhelmed with his distraught emotions and grief. The maid was frightened at his sudden demeanor and was shaking badly, but his grip was too tight she had no choice but to answer him.

DANTE DANTE She held my wrist, gripping on it for dear life. However this was no ordinary grip. A human’s grip should not have this much power in its hold. I could feel my bones shrinking, then I heard a crack that sent me straight to my knees. Shit that hurt. “Kira,” I said, slightly in pain. “Let me go.”

She agreed within herself. “At the end of this round…” the quiz master was saying when Perfect nudged at Emmanuel while she held her palm to her slightly parted lips. “I think he’s about to tell her points!” she said with renewed ecstasy on her face. She was going to put her arm across his shoulder as anxiety gripped her but she got a hold of herself and only shut her eyes; probably her ears too because when she eventually opened her eyes again, what followed was a deafening applaud that she knew not what prompted it. * * * *

I looked at the dishes placed on the table one by one and realized that it was all my favorite. "I don't know what you want, but you just gave me a great idea" he then looked at me like he was going to do what I said. No! I don't wanna be killed! "I was just kidding! Forget about it!" Gosh, I still don't want to die! "Just eat" I sat down but I stared at his face first, I just noticed that he got the looks, he has this pair of mesmerizing green eyes, a perfect jawline, a pointed nose, and pinkish lips that can be mistaken as a Greek God.

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.

Gryfyn whispered, his thumb sliding around my trapped wrists to hold them both with a single hand while his free hand dropped down to my waist, his long fingers digging deep into the soft, full curve of my hip. He pulled me even tighter against his broad frame, locking our bodies together until there wasn't a single breath of space left between us. His hot breath brushed over my mouth, making my pulse jump frantically in my throat as he held me locked in his possessive grip. "I am riding down to the pass tonight," Gryfyn growled low into my mouth, his sharp teeth lightly catching my lower lip in a slow, agonizing bite that sent a wave of liquid fire straight down into my core.