And My Axe Novels & Stories

" Why did you send the drink? You thought I would not drink it? I don't like wasting precious things. But useless things like you that are sent to die, I love to," " You seem so confident that you won't die by my hands. Or are you masking your fear with confidence?" "Well, how about we let my axe decide that? I don't..." " You talk too much," I said and attacked him first. Swinging a punch at his face. Black Axe stepped back and also swung his axe towards me. I was quick to dodge. I ran into the Alley's wall and landed a kick on Black Axe's face. Black Axe staggered back for a while but quickly regained his composure.

that Pierre was showing me, just a triangle of black cloth held by three strips. The thing looked like a tiny loincloth. “And how is that used?” as much as I saw whatever Pierre was teaching me, I still didn't understand where it would be put. "The hell I'll tell you,” Alex growled, letting go of me for the first time since we arrived. "I'm going to kill him." Stunned, I saw how Alex began to chase Pierre around the store, while amused, he dodged with whatever he had shown me still in his hand.

He felt her anger from yards away, and he couldn't even be sorry for it because he hated the thought of her with another guy. She turned on her heel and marched over to her friend, who glanced in Alex's direction. He didn't care if she was pissed or if her friend didn't like him. ********************** The crowd clapped once Cash finished his speech. The football players all left the stage for a steak dinner in the cafeteria before their game the next day. Alex was dying for a steak. His diet mostly consisted of meat being a werewolf, and nothing tasted better than a juicy steak. While Coach Bear started a pep talk, Axel gazed over the cafeteria at all the students eating. He couldn't stop t

I grab the sharp blade and slide it into his side, feeling a grim satisfaction as he falls. Ryder is fighting with the strength of an angry warrior, with fury, cutting through the Nardoos like a knife through butter. But it’s not enough. We need to stop the chanting, to break whatever spell they’re casting. I finally reach Dixie, grabbing one of the chanters and throwing him aside. The others scatter, slightly disrupted. I kneel beside her, my hand covering the glowing rune on her palm. It’s hot to the touch, burning with an unnatural heat.

Alpha Kyle chuckled immediately after he got to me. Immediately, I turned around, picked up a handful of dust, and threw it into his eyes. Next, the pressure pressing down on me disappeared. Before any of the guards came back to their senses, I stood up and sprinted at full speed. But this time, I wasn't running mindlessly. After covering some distance, I immediately hid behind a huge stone. "Find her!" Alpha Kyle's roar resounded through the forest just as I hid behind the stone. I couldn't help but shiver, hearing his roar, I knew he was angry. I was doomed if I was to be captured once again.

“Oh this pack is in for it.” “If she’s a Guardian.” “Do you think she really is?” “The ghosts know who you are?” Tessa asks, walking up and looking around. “They’re not ghosts,” Meadow says, smirking at me. “My name is Meadow Cross. My sister Maeve is married to Xander Holstin. Do you know who I am.” Another round of gasps. “She’s the witchy witch.” “My cousin has some witchy lights.” “Do you think she’d make us some?”

Another broken thing to replace in the morning. I open the door and step into the night air. Cold rain brushes my cheeks, sharp as needles. The smell of wet asphalt and pine fills my lungs, grounding me just enough to move. Through the windshield, I see him. Alex leans against the hood of his car, scrolling through his phone, the streetlight cutting along his jawline. His dark hair curls slightly at the ends, damp from the mist. His jacket clings to his shoulders, perfectly tailored, a little rebellious against the posh quiet of my world.

My world crashed before me. The handle was still stained with the blood of the creature it's owner fought off that day. I knelt beside it, unable to hold myself up. I remembered his arms cradling me as he dragged me out of the fire, his voice rasping out reassurances as he bled from a dozen wounds. My throat tightened. The memories I had long buried surged forward—his laughter, the smell of smoke and iron, the heat of that terrible night. I-I'm... not seeing this correctly, right? The axe belonged to my father, who saved my life.

The weapon, an actual, honest-to-goddess axe, is sticking out of me like I’m some kind of target dummy, and I’m very much not dead. My heart slams in my chest as I turn, ripping the axe free without a second thought, and I scan the room. It’s deserted, or at least appears to be. Whoever did this wanted it clean and quick, and they’ve either bailed or are watching from the shadows, waiting to see if they succeeded in sending the Luna of the pack to an early grave. I snarl, hefting the axe in my hand, its weight familiar and oddly comforting. “That the best you’ve got?” I call out, my voice echoing off the walls. No answer, just the distant hum of the overhead lights. Typical.

But I wasn’t, and I was about to prove it. I reached behind me and pulled an axe from a secret pocket hidden in my clothes. It was light and comfortable. It has a dark silver blade coated in a shimmering covering of diamonds. The silver handle had two golden wires intertwining, yet leaving enough space between each twirl for my hand to fit in. "You sure are pretty!" He slurred. Great, he was drunk!