Animal Instincts Book Novels & Stories

‘How would I know a cute rabbit could be that fierce’ ivory responded angrily. Anita threw two books at ivory which she caught. ‘Why are you giving me these’ ivory asks. ‘Since you don’t want my help you should at least know how help yourself…one book contains details about animals in this world while the other is a technique book’. Ivory looks at the technique book ‘ice dome…I could learn this at the library’. ‘How many times do I have to tell you, my stuffs aren’t ordinary…that ice dome has the ability to protect the user and whoever is inside an…’

She looked excited, then I seated besides her. The book that I am going to introduce to her was just a picture book of animals. I want to know how many animals she could remember at her current mind level. I showed her the book cover and told her the book title. I can see in her eyes and behavior that she was very interested as she get more closer to me.

Alex mulls it. “Yes and no. There are some instincts that take over in that form, more than they otherwise would. The impulse to hunt, for instance, is very powerful. To chase a scent, track down an enemy. That’s why you maybe shouldn’t venture out alone to . . .” “Skinny-dip at midnight?”

She said. A book almost instantly appeared in front of her. While she took it into her hands, she read out the title of the book. "Fatal attraction..." The book was about a magical world of animals. If animals gained enough magical power, they would gain the ability to take on a human form. However, their human form would still retain traces of their real form. The story focused on the world of wolves. There was little mention about humans. They only appeared when animals raided and attacked villages for food and fun.

He was still having a hard time accepting the redhead as his son's mate. But Anthony kept mute, not replying him; rather, he walked to the cupboard near the bed. He picked up the books on it, and smiled for a second when he found the book he was looking for. Dropping the other which seemed to a history note on the cupboard, he scanned the animal book on his hands until he found what he was looking for. "Impossible..." He mumbled, as he looked from the feather in his hand, to the bird's picture and tale on the book.

My body moves on instinct when it comes to her. “Brooklyn cried out in ecstasy, her walls clasping around his throbbing hard—okay, that’s it.” I snapped the book shut and flung it aside. I’m not about to sit here listening to people getting off when I’m on the verge of combusting. “Fuck.” I groaned, dragging my hand down my face. Alina sat frozen between my legs, too still, too quiet, while my body screamed at me to lose control. My wolf was pacing beneath the surface, snarling to sink his teeth into her, to taste, to claim.

The room was infested with them, and while I hesitated at the thought of resorting to such primitive means for sustenance, my wolf's instincts pushed me forward. I rose from the ground where I had been sitting, my stomach rumbling louder with each passing moment. Fat, plump rats scurried in and out of the hole, tantalizingly close. With a resigned sigh, I relinquished control to my wolf. It was her domain now, her instincts guiding her hunt. I transformed, allowing her to take over as she pursued her prey with single-minded determination.

I had to keep studying—this was the only way I could avoid his gaze and his presence. After a few more pages, my eyes drifted to the large bookshelf along the living room wall. It was filled with thick volumes, most in Latin or old English. Slowly, I stood and approached it. My fingers brushed over a spine, trying to read the titles. Anatomi Licanthropica, Genealogy of Packs, Mutatio Lupus. I pulled one out, nearly choking when I saw its contents—pages full of strange illustrations: skeletal figures half-transformed into wolves, notes on dual circulatory systems, and countless terms unfamiliar to me.

he said quietly. I nodded, following his lead. My bandaged hands had healed somewhat overnight, but they were still tender. I flexed my fingers experimentally as we climbed the stairs, wondering if the strange heat would return without warning. The third floor was quieter than the lower levels, with fewer patrons browsing the tall shelves. Elijah led me to a section marked “History,” his fingers trailing along the spines as he searched for relevant titles. “Here,” he said, pulling out a massive book with faded gold lettering on the spine. “‘Ancient Wolf Abilities and Customs.’ This could be a good start.”