Ashfur And Scourge Novels & Stories

He can't take it anymore until he was able to break the chains, with all his force, and quickly rush to the rogue who is ready to touch his daughter's breast. Austin's sharpened claws show up to his fingers. Then in a swift move, he attacks the Rogue's back and digs his claw straight to the rogue's chest. The rogue was unable to react when he felt a pang of pain on his chest, and by looking at it, his heart was in a hold of a bloody hand. He had a hole on his left chest where Austin landed his sharp claws out of his front. The were-rogues got alerted when they saw those quick scenes, like a gush of wind being felt by the quick moments. Austin growled loudly and howled to send his message to

After that, there was chaos. There were some driven crazy by the constant torture and they started a killing spree, killing anything that looked remotely human, but there was one unlike the rest of them. He didn't have a single scar; he was completely fine, even handsome. You would think he was a normal person if not for his eyes. They looked lifeless and at the same time murderous. He moved quickly through the mess of horrifying screams and blood. He was like a ghost that was floating.

Their hands intertwined, and together, they stood under the stars and the promise of a future filled with love, trust, and everything they had ever dreamed of. Suddenly, The howls echoed through the woods and made the air feel heavy. Azrael stiffened as his protective instincts kicked in. He pulled Zafira and Raffy closer to him and held them tightly. The howls kept getting louder and were coming from different directions. Zafira looked at Azrael, feeling scared. "Are they from our pack?" she asked. Azrael's face hardened, "No, they’re rogues." Zafira’s heart raced, "Rogues?". She got broad knowledge about the werewolf world and also knew who Rogues were.

''You witnessed the old lad sentenced to his early grave, Smith, don't you? ''Jack has his cunning ways, ma'am,'' said the second Lieutenant, Scott, ''I was a survivor of the team that drove the Black-Maria to execute Jack before the deadly Mafia attacked us and hijacked him from us.'' Scott fixed his gaze on Miriam's countenance and hoped he had crushed her claim. ''To be honest, though,'' Scott continued, ''i'm not quite aware of what became of Jack after the mafia attacked us in the Gobi desert. But my gut tells me that he was the mastermind behind the attack. The old bastard must have run loose afterwards.''

How could I guarantee the souls meant for the afterlife would no longer be detained? "Kaida, duck!" Asher’s frantic warning came far too late. I felt the lash of the Raktabija strike my face with searing impact. Pain lanced sharply through me, and I let out a shrill, shattering scream that made the earth rock more violently than the weight of the beast's chase. **** ASHER

Hope flickers across his face. He shifts his stance slightly, preparing to fire again. That is his mistake. Rage replaces pain so abruptly that it almost feels like relief, something violent and feral igniting inside my chest, overriding the poison, overriding the weakness, overriding the part of me that knows I should not survive this. My claws extend fully, bone pushing through skin with a sharp, violent shift, the transformation incomplete but more than enough to remind him that wolves do not die quietly. I lunge. The world narrows to impact.

I would find a safe distance. Just as I was about to start running again, there was a thud. And pain. I couldn't quite understand what had happened. I rolled through the remains of the snow, the fallen tree leaves and the damp earth. There was a strong pressure on my body, throwing me sideways, and my vision spun, blurred. Only then did I understand. I was lying on the ground and the enemy alpha was standing over me. Viktor Frostbite. For generations, the Ashenfur and Frostbite clans have coexisted in a fragile peace. We maintained an alliance based on mutual agreements of non-aggression and trade in resources until Gregor led us into a territorial invasion.

"Joshua! You're the one who drove a wedge between us! I'm going to kill you!" "Watch out!" Talia screamed and threw herself in front of me. The blade sank cleanly into her abdomen, and blood bloomed across her clothes. "Talia…" Adam froze. The knife slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor. Talia staggered, gripping his collar, hatred and resolve burning in her eyes. Then, she grabbed the fallen knife and plunged it into him. She kept stabbing him, over and over, until he collapsed, motionless. I didn't move. I couldn't intervene as it all happened in a blur.

Aurora nodded, blades ready. Asmada Ezra let out a frustrated scream, summoning two more hybrid creatures from the treeline. They were grotesque, their bodies stitched together with dark spells and raw muscle. Draven and Aurora exchanged a look—an understanding passing between them without words. They moved as one. Draven charged the hybrids, slicing one down with a brutal swing of his sword. Blackened blood sprayed across the ground, sizzling where it landed. Aurora danced around the second, her blades flashing. She found the weak points—the stitched seams—and tore them apart with precise, lethal strikes.

But no sound came. Just him—**Asher**, standing on four powerful legs, covered in black and silver fur, his head snapping toward a group of intruders. He lunged, tearing through them with precision, no hesitation. A blur of motion, of fury and power. There was blood on his teeth. Steel couldn’t seem to touch him. *Oh my God.* *Oh my God.* *What—what is he?* And then… he turned. Saw her. Even through the monstrous form, **his eyes met hers**. Something in them held. Recognition. A flicker of… grief?