Your Words Cut Deeper Than Any Blade Novels & Stories

Too unyielding to bow, to fawn, to flatter. Too long I clung to love, to softness. My blood roared, boiling, scalding, surging. I couldn’t hear my wolf’s excited howls—but I felt him. Impatient. Hungry. Furious. Can’t communicate with the wolf? Can’t shift? Doesn’t matter. One hand, and I could wipe you all from existence. That was enough. I opened my eyes. Crimson. Pure fire. How could I forget? I am a blade. A blade must be honed.

Every hand on my skin is a map to their weaknesses, every thrust a reminder that the blade they think they damaged is already aimed at their throats. And when I strike, not even the goddess will find enough pieces of them to bury.

A smile, faint and distant, brushed my lips. “Any last words?” I asked. He laughed, the sound empty and defiant. “Love always finds a way, they say. Pity it found its way out of your lives.” He tried to make it mockery. It landed small and thin. I didn’t hesitate. The arc of the blade was inevitable. It fell. Blood exploded warm and bright across my face. His head rolled, snow swallowing the sound, crimson blossoming against white. For a breath, everything narrowed to the metallic tang in my mouth and the thudding in my ears.

The blade did not cut through but the strike was heavy and shattered every bone it came in contact with. "A sharp blade is mercy" Orie said "And mercy cannot be granted to the wicked man" he added as he struck another shoulder. "You will not die until I'm done" "And do not think think this is the worst of it" "There is a whole lot more of this..." "...IN HELL!!"

Her words were like a slap, stinging my skin and leaving a pain that I couldn't shake. I felt a familiar ache in my chest. Her words cut deeper than I'd ever admit, slicing into my defenses and exposing the raw, vulnerable flesh beneath. I wanted to scream, to rage against the how badly I got treated, to remind her that this was my home too, that my father was the Alpha, that I had once been loved and cherished.

I bleed bonds from wrists to paper for those who forget. The girl puts heat to words, and they take offence like old men when the young stop saying father. I swear my knee… curls. Hair goes first, then bone. Letters hook, ash, shine. Threads snap overhead like a harp torn by fistfuls. Collars slip. A wolf touches his neck, finds it empty, and cries as if his name returned improved. “You cannot,” I say, calmly. “Words cannot be unspoken.” “I can burn them,” she says, and smiles like wine you didn’t order but drink.

Because he is getting me so confused now. "With a knife, don’t worry about the cut; I will give you something that will heal it up immediately.” He says it calmly, but there’s a saying that the calmness of a man can kill faster than poison. I need to leave. God, I need to fucking escape from here! I cry from the inside, and my chest and throat begin to burn like flames.

Ignoring my writhing body and muffled cries, he deepened the cut, the blade a torturous extension of his malevolence. My body trembled violently, every nerve ending screaming in protest. As I thrashed beneath him, he laughed, a cruel, mocking sound that reverberated through the small room. “This is what happens when you disrespect me, you slut,” he sneered, the word a venomous insult that cut deeper than the blade. He pressed the knife further, the pain intensifying, the blade moving inexorably towards my most vulnerable areas. Desperate, I struggled, twisting and kicking, but each movement only intensified the agony.

My patience went over the edge like a dry twig yielding under pressure. "You know nothing" rolled out of me, deep and cold, like a blade of sound cleaving through the night. It wasn't deafening, and it needn't have been. It settled like lead into their bones, visibly sending shivers down their spines. I could see their shoulders hunched; I could see the gasping breaths."And therefore, you have no right to stand before me and spill filth." Before the words finished drifting away, I was practically there. My sword, being my very arm, felt heavy in my grasp and thirsty for blood. It sliced through the air, through the skin and the man fell dead, the head separated from the body.

Just one cut and all my miseries will come to an end. I closed my eyes and pressed the blade deeper into my skin, letting the pain consume me...