Wrapped Around Your Finger Meaning Novels & Stories

‎ ‎But before I could dial— ‎ ‎A hand wrapped around my wrist. ‎ ‎And everything inside me went cold. ‎ ‎ ‎

"Let me put the ring on your finger." His voice was a little husky but from his throat, I could tell that his wolf was growling inside. I contained the gasp that threatened to escape in my mouth and let out my left hand. Intimately his fingers hold my ring finger and slowly slide the ring inside. "Follow what I am doing and put the remaining ring on my finger."

— Everyone laughs at Lyn's words. I place mine on the index finger of his right hand, and then he extends his hand, and I place it on his ring finger. He looks at the ring and smiles, gets up, wraps his arms around my back, hugs me tightly, I do the same, and we stay like this for a few seconds. [...]

The moment her eyes landed on the image, a strange feeling swept over her. The women’s ring… looked familiar. Like she had seen it somewhere before. Mrs. Jackson chuckled softly. “Beautiful, isn’t it? The design uses a twisted band to represent intertwined fate—'bound through life and death, never to part.’” “Bound through life and death, never to part…” Layla murmured, eyes fixed on the ring. Deep in her mind, something stirred—fragments of a hazy memory slowly rising to the surface.

‘It’s for when someone grabs you, like this. I reached out and closed my hand around her wrist. My fingers encircled it completely, my thumb meeting my forefinger with room to spare. So slim. So fragile. I could feel the delicate bones beneath her skin. I could pin both her wrists with a single hand, hold her still while—

he answered, holding out his hand. “Deal,” I repeated, and shook his hand. As our hands touched, something hurt like a motherfucker, making me flinch back. “Auch!” I burst out and looked down at my right ring finger. On the inside of it, between my ring finger and middle finger, was a small star; it was tiny, but still there, still ominous, still reminding me of what had just happened. “What is that?” “A symbol of our agreement,” he answered, as if it were the most logical thing in the entire world.

As I walk away, my mind is replays the moment over and over. A flash of silver, as the sunlight hits a thin band wrapped around his ring finger. Tiny indentations in the silver, which may or may not have been text. It could be a coincidence. It could be just a ring. It could be nothing. Or it could be everything.

But instead of feeling like heartfelt promises, they felt more like shackles, binding me tighter to Lysander and his world with every word I uttered. Then came the rings. Lysander's hands were calm as he slid the ring onto my finger, but mine were trembling so much that he had to steady them. I couldn’t take my eyes off the gold band. For many, a wedding ring symbolizes love, but to me, it was just a marker of my belonging to Lysander. It felt like he had just locked me in a beautiful cage with that shiny key.

She felt an itch on her palm as she placed her hand on his, watching him closely. Gin stared at the black ring on her index finger. The moment his skin touched the band, he felt a burn, stinging him with pain. What his brother Augutus told him was right. He instantly felt the rage and power from it. It was a witch’s ring, the infamous Sadraka’s band of protection. He gently let go of her hand, quickly keeping his burned skin under the table.