Why Are My Arm Veins So Visible Novels & Stories

I did not realize that my purse had fallen, and just as I was about to reach for it, another hand went first. I was still staring at his arm; the bulging veins on his arm were obvious. I was stunned and returned to my senses when I tasted it. I immediately reached for my purse in his hand and looked at him to thank him.

The pain came without warning. Not the dull pulse I’d gotten used to, the low constant reminder that the curse was there and moving. This was different. This was every nerve in my left arm lighting up at once, a white hot thing that started at my wrist and drove straight up to my shoulder, and I knocked the report off the desk getting my sleeve up. The veins had crossed my elbow. I sat very still and breathed through it, both hands flat on the desk, watching the black lines pulse visibly under my skin. Moving. I could actually see them moving, slow and deliberate, branching.

I freeze as I feel a long bulge seeming to pop from under his skin. Wait, is that a vein?! I glance down and yes, it is. I'm instantly aroused. Why though? His forearms are so muscular, the veins that stretch down to his hands making him look uber masculine. That and his beard and the way he smells all make me just... Mmm... I nibble on my lip as I slide my fingers up and down the most prominent one. Dear God, he's sexy!

"Now, I can admire you properly." Astra heaved before she took in her mate. He was shirtless, his pectorals and arms bulging from too much training as dark purple vein marks were scattered just below his eight-packed abs. The veins disappeared into the front of his pants which were stained with her wetness and she knew where those veins ended. The lines of thick blood were purple-red all over his cock but took the color of his skin when the veins got to his thighs.

So why am I feeling so drained, and why does my arm throb? I pull up the soaked sleeve to inspect the area that is giving me issues and gasp out loud when I see not just a mass of dark bruising, but my veins are a deep hue of purple and angry looking. My throat goes dry when I see a small hole, no bigger than a needle, but bright red, sitting in the center of the bruising and discolored veins. What did they do to me? It’s the logical question, the only one that comes to mind. They, whoever it was that attacked me, must have caused this.

Harley I was feeling the effects of the wine when we got back to my apartment. I flicked on the lights and poured myself a glass of water from the tap while Rick shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the coatrack by the door. Then he rolled up the sleeves of his button-up shirt, revealing his forearms which were corded with muscle and lined with a thick vein that, for some reason, always made me feel like a damsel in distress at the sight of them.

Vane was in the galley, pouring a very large drink with very shaking hands. Tristan sat on the floor near the heater vent. He had stripped off his heavy coat and gloves. He was staring at his arms. The white veins hadn't faded. Usually, after a discharge, the glow would dim, retreating into his marrow. But now, they remained visible—a intricate lacework of pale light tracing the path of his nervous system. And they hurt. It wasn't the burn of heat; it was the ache of something stretched too thin. "Here," Saoirse said gently.

Almost gently. * * * Caelan was at his desk. Not working — papers pushed aside. Sitting with his face in his hands, shirt open at the collar, the way a shirt opened when a man had stopped thinking about what he looked like. So I saw them. The veins. Black, fine as thread, spreading in a branching pattern from the centre of his chest — not like bruising, like something drawn with intention. They crossed his sternum, reached toward his ribs, and one branch climbed the left side of his throat and stopped, for now, at his collarbone.

she asked, sitting up and looking at him intently. "I know," he replied assuredly. Her expression was enough to tell him that his response was not adequate. With a deep sigh, he flipped his right arm over so she could see the injection sight. Cadence gasped in horror. The veins in his arm were a dark green color, almost black, starting where he had inserted the needle near his elbow and running up his arm toward his bicep. The flesh was a lighter shade of green, and she could see it was spreading the other direction as well. "Why is it green?"

Black spots danced in and out like they were testing how far they could go before I dropped. I waited it out, counting sheeps slowly in my head until the spinning eased enough for me to stand. Each step toward the mirror felt heavier than it should have. And when I finally looked? I went completely still. The veins had changed though they appear faint and one will miss if you weren’t looking for them. But they were darker now and it wasn’t just around the mark. They’d spread slightly witj thin lines branching just beneath the skin creeping downward toward my chest like cracks in glass.