Wrist Blades Novels & Stories

I felt the wind from her blade as it sailed by my face, but instead of defending myself, which would've entailed hurting her in some way, I went into retreat, gliding back on my heels and out of the way. She came in fast, and I had no choice this time but to ward her off, but still, I did the least amount of damage I could in the circumstances by hitting her wrist with the heel of my hand in just the right way to get the results I wanted. The blade clattered to the old cement floor with a clanging sound. "I'm not…" I started to explain myself, but she came in low and fast, and this time both hands held the blades she'd grabbed from their hidden place at her sides. Stupid me watched in fascin

Lexi and Genie had been nice enough to collect them all for me and were helping me through them, but I knew that I wouldn't be getting anything else done tonight. He stopped me just as I was about to grasp the handle of my door, taking hold of my wrist and drawing my attention back to him once more as I raised an eyebrow at him in question. "Here," he pushed the two smaller short swords he had been carrying into my hands, and for the second time tonight, I could have sworn my eyebrows actually became part of my hairline for a moment. "They're special made, extremely lightweight blades meant for speed more than anything else. They're not going to pierce through any heavy armor, but if you kno

she hissed, clutching her broken hand to her chest, her face contorted in pain and surprise. Her other hand flashed, revealing a wicked-looking weapon strapped to her wrist three razor-sharp blades extending from a metal casing. She held her injured hand protectively, clearly intending to rely on the bladed weapon. I lunged forward, grabbing her arm as she swung, the blades tearing through the air inches from my face. I yanked her closer, my grip tightening on her elbow, and with another sharp, sickening twist, I broke her other arm and before she could even scream, I brought my hand up, grabbing the bladed weapon, and with a brutal efficiency that left no room for error, I plunged it deep

The remaining guards scrambled for their weapons, desperate to aim at Liam, but with a mere flick of his wrist, his extraordinary dagger—a quintuple-edged dagger—soared through the air. Their wrists were severed cleanly, guns and severed limbs dropping to the ground in a macabre dance. It happened too quickly! Pain lanced through their wrists, and their screams pierced the air, a chorus of terror.

But I was wrong; he has two small blades that are attached to his hands by a leather strap. He’s feinting left and right so fast that it’s hard for me to keep up. The soldier is clearly outmatched. With the flick of the wrist, Zarius' soldier throws his blade into the soldier's chest. The blade misses his heart and gives the soldier enough fury to slice opponents right arm.

I pulled the watch from my wrist and grabbed Liam’s hand, placing it in his palm. “Have I failed to remind you not to trust that man?” He took another look at the wristwatch before passing it over to Blade. He turned around and walked away as soon as he received it. ‘‘My present...’’ I followed it with my gaze until it’s gone with Blade. “Do you have any idea what that thing is, huh?” Liam stood holding his lower waist, while his eyes were just on me. It seemed as if he was absorbing me with his gaze; it’s terrifying.

It struck its target before the man could recover, embedding into his shoulder and breaking the rhythm of his movement. He faltered. That was enough. My foot pressed into his knee with controlled force, and he collapsed before he could attempt a second strike. I had no intention of shedding blood, so knocking them out was enough. The next attacker closed the distance quickly, his blade aimed higher, faster. I leaned back just enough for it to graze past me, my hand catching his wrist mid-motion. A slight twist shifted the angle of his strike, and the weapon slipped from his grasp. I did not keep it. I never needed to.

Then closed it again. Fair point. Still… “I don’t even have a weapon.” Vance reached behind his back and pulled a second blade from his belt. Shorter than his sword. But sharp. Very sharp. He tossed it. Lena barely caught it before it hit the ground. Her eyebrows shot up. “You’re giving me a knife?” “You’ll need it.” She turned the blade in her hand. The weight felt strange. Unfamiliar. “I’ve never used one of these.” “Then today is your first day.”