Your Words Cut Deeper Than Any Blade Novels & Stories

Then I lower the blade. Silently, tilting my head with fascination I watch as his pale skin quickly oozes ruby. It can’t just be a skin wound, I remind myself. I have to go deeper. I push a little further, the cut now two inches across his stomach. Breathing steadily, hypnotised by my act of highest treason I am lost, mesmerised by the blood. Don’t stop until it’s gushing, I remind myself. His wolf might be able to heal so we need to go deep-

He trusted me, and in that trust, I found my own strength. The reminder, realizing his empire of fear had crumbled, made a final attempt, a desperate lunge. Blade intercepted instantly, a brutal counter that left him gasping on the ground, powerless. I stepped forward, raising my voice, cutting through the remnants of his bravado: “You brought wolves to hunt me,” I said, letting the words hang in the charged air. “But you forgot one thing—wolves run together. And when we run together, no shadow can hold us down.”

another sneered. The words cut through me like a blade, sharper than any whip. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I fought to keep my composure. This wasn’t supposed to be my story—my fate. I had worked too hard, sacrificed too much, to end up like this.

"No, Your Grace. Life gets complicated with the heart. Once there's a heart, there are feelings, a flow of blood, and there is death. I cut things. Although, mostly, I'm used on humans. I don't feel the slickness of their blood, since I have no feelings, but it speaks to me. Yes, blood always speaks. It's the only thing from the human body that speaks the loudest when he is dead. Always it is praying, and wishing things were better. It cries to God. And I know you represent blood, Your Grace." Rose smiled. "Is this a trial, Your Grace?" the knife asked. "Surely, you didn't choose me to speak by mere happenstance." "Your edges are blunt," Rose said. "Why is that?" "I dulled myself. I hit myse

It was a carving knife. Thin. Precise. Sadistic. “Today, we carve obedience,” he said, smiling. The blade touched my thigh. Cold. And then he dragged it slow. I screamed. Not because it was deep—it wasn’t. But it was deliberate. Slow enough for every cell in my body to feel the slice, the insult, the degradation. Blood welled up immediately, trickling in warm lines down my leg as he traced every fucking letter. W. H. O. R.

My own words sounded foreign to me, as if they were coming from a place beyond my control, from the very heart of the beast that had been unleashed. “No way...” Brandon’s disbelief was evident, his voice trembling as he spoke. But my grip on the blade tightened, the leather of my gloves creaking under the pressure. “I'm going to kill you,” I declared, each word dripping with venom that matched the red hue of my stained hands. “Slowly.”

“Stronger than I expected. Maybe your blood really is what they say it is.” “Keep talking,” I growled, my breathing rough. “See where it gets you.” He smiled again, raising his blade. “The truth always bleeds its way out.” He charged. Our knives clashed, sparks flying in the dim light. His movements were precise, practiced. I blocked his strikes, countered with my own, until one slipped past my defense and cut deep into my side. I staggered but didn’t fall. Pain shot through me, but I used it — let it sharpen my focus.

This man must not be human. “Because the title was never yours to begin with.” He goes on. My heart clenches. I should be used to it by now. The sharp edges of his words, the way he wields them like knives, cutting me down without hesitation. But somehow, each one still manages to pierce deeper than the last. I swallow past the lump in my throat, refusing to let him see how much it hurts. How much it breaks me to pieces with every word he says.

“What?” “Remember when I almost got married once and thought that was a happy ending already? I was wrong. So, whatever you saw, whatever is making you have this expression right now, that’s not the ending yet. You only saw a portion of the future, Blade. And if you weren’t in that future, then that’s not everything yet. You know why? Because I already saw it. I may not have an ability like yours but I already pictured it in my head: my future with you.” I felt my heart slammed against my ribcage. So, this was the reason why they say words were powerful. Words could either kill or heal. They could either drown or lift up someone’s spirit… even my spirit.

The blade sliced through my skin, and I cried out, pain radiating through my body. Maya’s eyes were wild, her expression manic. “You think you’re so much better than me,” she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. “You think you’re the hero, the savior. But you’re just a coward, hiding behind your ideals. You don’t have what it takes to win. You never did.”