9 Tailed Cloak Novels & Stories

“Vampires?! I whispered, shocked. The book talked about vampires and other creatures I never knew about. Then I spotted a drawing, it was a fox with nine nails. Before I could read one more line, the door swung open. “Stay away from my stuff,” she hissed, snatching the book from me. “Your stuff? Really? I scoffed. “I and Lucas found it, so how is it yours to keep? I added. She sighed, rubbing her temples “look, just stay away from it. Some secrets are best left buried,” she said, her eyes narrowed, drawing closer. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Then a dead, heavy silence descended. I tried understanding the warning but the image of the nine-tailed fox couldn’t leave my head. “ So vampires re

"Ren and Dan said that when they tried to track her down with her scent, they stopped just below this balcony. And when Fred casted the tracking spell it also led us to the exact same place. It means that when she has reached the bottom, she must have used something in order to hide her presence and prevent us from tracking her down." Nate was on to something. He could tell. And Fred had a feeling what he was about to say. "She's cloaked." Fred's suspicion was confirmed when Nate nodded. A cloak is a special type of hood made by powerful warlocks. It conceals you so that no one can track you down. Not a vampire, not a werewolf, and not a warlock. It has been used by royals when they are hidi

I immediately opened my drawer and pulled out the secret compartment. When I saw what was inside my blood suddenly came to life. It's been a long time since I have ever used it. Well, it's a dark red cloak that has a design of a black raven on the back of it. I quickly put it on and took my mask well it's a gold mask that has a touch of silver on the edge. I quickly pressed my orvix and thought of the thing I wanted to get and in a flash, the thing that I needed was already in my hands.

I'd worried Selene's outfit for tonight wouldn't meet the old Sterling protective standards, so I'd spent the last two nights weaving him this cloak, reinforced with the traditional ceremonial wards. His fingers caught the collar and lifted it. His eyes landed on the inside, on a small herb pattern embroidered in silver thread. My healer's mark. I'd stitched it into everything I'd ever made for him, since we were kids. He stared at it for a long moment. Then, expression flat, he folded the cloak up and tossed it aside. He walked out without looking back. Outside the morgue, news came in from the field. A pack of rogues had just hit a small allied pack to the north.

"Then you have seen the beginning of the end." We played again, and this time I did not give in. He had to learn that winning was not easy, that strength came from standing up after falling. Hard lessons. "Later that day" The sun was in the west at afternoon as I finally prepared for what was to come. I stood before the mirror, securing the high collar of my dark charcoal cloak. The fabric was expensive, chosen deliberately, it tied about my waist like armor, the material flowing like shadow fluid over my form. It had all been considered, from the cut that emphasized my transformed body to the color that made my silver hair a starlight.

Absalom paused and fingered a tunic in his hands while he thought. “I don’t know. I just do.” He lifted the cream-colored tunic over his head and pulled it down over his torso. He’d already set a pair of black boots next to the bed and pulled those over his feet, then stood to face her. The tunic did little to conceal the muscle beneath it and the collar only accented the thickness of his neck, drawing her wondering eyes to it. “Now to find some cloaks. It will continue to become cold at night, so we’ll want to be covered.” Despite his harshness at times, she had to admit that his ability to take care of a situation was admirable. Still, she was reluctant to trust him, especially aft

He asks, extending his hand toward me, palm open. My breath thunders in my ears. Up close, he is far more dangerous than from a distance. Tonight, his long dark hair is styled into two ceremonial braids that fall down his back, cowry beads decorating the locs. Black khol lines his waterline, darkening his already piercing silver eyes. His jaw is sharp enough to cut, and his presence alone is enough to make anyone forget how to breathe. He’s wearing a burgundy cloak embroidered with gold markings, the fabric heavy and royal. Beneath it, a perfectly tailored dark shirt and trousers hug his broad frame. His crown rests naturally on his head, like it was made from him, not just for him.

and stands up straight from leaning on the bars. Himari stands up too after she makes sure the blanket covered Mizu's body completely and says in a serious manner, " Akane was right, tomorrow she will surely win her fight. Now, at the time had been already quarter to 9 we need to go back to our own room before 10 o'clock," she said looking at the wall clock. Haruto suddenly threw the rest of the cloaks towards them and they easily catch it. The black cloak sways strongly when they start wearing it. On the back, a logo of a terrifying silver dragon with an open mouth was imprinted, indicating they are from East House.

This was not a good sign. “Beta,” I said with a quiet voice, “Do you feel that figure looks familiar? Stature, movement or by the body structure? He looked at the screen with frustration and shook his head. “Too well hidden. The cloak can be magical, it has a faint shine on it. Whoever this is, they didn’t want to be tracked.” Magic. This is another piece of the puzzle. The wolves of our pack rarely dealt in such arts. But there are creatures from outside who certainly did.

"I need... I need to be outside." My caretaker didn't argue further. I heard him collecting items around the room. "Let me help you dress properly," he said, approaching with what sounded like heavy fabric rustling in his hands. He assisted me to my feet with practiced efficiency, draping something substantial around my shoulders—a cloak of some kind, heavy and warm. "This is your ceremonial cloak," he explained as he fastened it at my throat. "Black with silver embroidery along the edges." I nodded, though the description meant nothing to me.