The Words In Your Snare Novel Novels & Stories

Serena My legs burned with every step, my side a sharp, gnawing pain that refused to fade. The fog clung to me like a living thing, hiding the world and twisting every shape into something threatening. My breath came ragged, each inhale a knife in my chest. And then I heard it — a rustle, deliberate, familiar. My heart skipped, and my stomach tightened. He’s close. I stumbled forward, hand clutching the necklace like a lifeline, eyes straining through the thick gray. My boots slipped on wet rocks, mud spraying my legs. I fell hard, hands scraping against moss-covered stone, but a low, ragged voice cut through the fog.

To prove the macho man that he was, he whispered into her ears after biting it a bit, “Answer me, is he better than I am?” Now, Chantelle was more interested in moving away from his grip, and could not give any response to his question. “Let go of me, Johnny,” she said under her breath as she struggled to extricate herself.

It didn't stain his skin; it ran off his knuckles like pure, heavy water, leaving behind a faint scent of cedar and old library shelves. "We’re off the page, Sara," he said, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly timbre that felt grounded in a way the Sovereign's echo never could. "The Author’s desk, the Fourteenth Seat, the Enforcers... they were all trying to keep the ledger from closing. But this harbor isn't a ledger. It’s the reservoir where the unused words go to drown."

Focus. I press forward, the Living Stone pulsing weakly in my grip. The first loop appears ahead—a woman kneeling in the iridescent sludge, clutching a phantom baby to her chest, her wails syncopated with the distant, rhythmic thud of a door slamming. Over and over. I reach for her. The loop snaps onto me. — Kieran’s breath hot on my neck, his knife cold against my ribs "You were never strong enough" the grove burning Arthur screaming —

He throws Aurora into Sora and they land heavily a few steps back while his hand catches my wrist mid-motion. He pulls me to him slightly tipping me off balance. Our eyes lock. For a split second, everything around me fades out, the mirrored walls, the polished floors, the precise chaos of our movements. Its just us. His pale, calculating gaze locked with mine. I feel a subtle flutter, the awareness of a new presence within my chest intensifies. My breath catches. Something dangerous, magnetic, and confusing wells up with in me. Control is my language, yet suddenly, control feels uncertain. I shake the thoughts away, refocusing on my stance as the surroundings flood back in, but the spark re

" Right then, Isaac arrived to pick me up. Jeremy lost it at the sight of him and bellowed, "Violet Sadler! You've been with Isaac all along, haven't you? That's why you're kicking me to the curb now!" My steps faltered for a second, but I just shook my head and kept walking. I'd barely gone a few paces when a piercing scream split the air behind me. I instinctively turned to see that Jeremy had somehow grabbed a pen. He straddled Savannah and raised the pen, looking crazed as he drove it toward her throat.

A deafening boom ripped through the underground kingdom. The golden eyes vanished beneath a storm of silver light. The chains wrapped around something enormous. Something beyond imagination. The city trembled. The jailer stood motionless. Holding. Containing. Enduring. Then came a sound I never wanted to hear. A snap. One chain broke. The noise echoed like a thunderclap. Then another chain shattered. And another. And another. The prison was failing. The jailer's light brightened desperately. More chains appeared. Thousands more.

The Man in the Snow Saxa For a moment after I saw the words, no one moves. Kasper is here. The room seems to be shrinking around us. The lantern light flickers against the walls, the shadows stretching and folding like they’re trying to listen. Outside, the figure stops moving. Just beyond the porch. The snow beneath his bare feet doesn’t even seem disturbed. My wolf surges hard against my ribs. The sound that leaves my chest isn’t quite a growl yet—but it’s close.

I skid to a halt at a cluster of ancient oaks, their roots twisting like serpents. Perfect for traps. I whisper a snare spell, and watch vines coil into loops hidden under leaves. I add a few sharpened stakes from broken branches, enchanted to pierce deep. If that snake thing follows, it'll regret it. Panting, I climb the tallest oak I can find, settling into a high fork. From here, I can see the clearing I left behind, it's empty now, but the earth is churned from their brawl. No sign of the three, but that hiss... it's closer.

Snake said, dropping the final card as he stared at his opponent, who had lost everything from gambling, including his underwear. The men who were cheering for him applauded. "Want to bet some more," Snake asked, resting his back on the chair with a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "You want me to go back home naked," the opponent asked as he stood to his feet and walked away. Snake smirked. "Snake, how do you do it?" one of the people asked. "Three words; Calculate. Think. Strike." Snake said while the men exchanged glances. At the front door stood a man who was glancing around the clubhouse in search of someone.