Beck Victorious Novels & Stories

I looked about the lot in alarm, a sudden thought occurring to me until I sighted the monster beast’s still motionless body, pinned by the sword that had its hilt now lodged into the sand. “Confirm kill!” I rasped, the word scarcely falling from my lips when Gordon, the sandy blonde-haired man with lips the shape of twigs drew his weird with a quickness. I watched, unable to move my eyes fast enough as he slammed the edge of his sword into Japhtar’s neck with a meaty crunch and the beast remained motionless. “Christ,” Hector sighed with a hint of pain lacing his voice as the meaty crack of Gordon’s sword hacking through bone filled the lot and I winced, turning away and raising my shoulder t

Pedestrians stopped to gawk as they passed, their eyes widening in surprise at the sight of such a powerful machine and two super handsome men. Beck let out a howl of excitement as they left the city limits and headed towards the woods. "This is gonna be epic!" he shouted, his eyes flashing with anticipation.The think veil of worry and burden of duty was long lifted off his free soul. He was in his element once more. The raw, wild, young wolf, that always trailed his Alpha, no matter what. Ryan chuckled, feeling the rush of adrenaline as they picked up speed. "You ain't seen nothing yet, my friend," he replied, a sly grin on his lips.

It gives him a few seconds before the hounds decide attacking is their best move. They might have gained some newfound intelligence, but Beast is smart and has had years of practice. Our eyes carry bloodlust, our bodies made for killing. Beast's claws rake a wide path across one throat and chest. It's not a killing blow, but the hound lists to the side and the other jumps around him. It's almost like he's protecting the hurt creature. Beast lets out a growl that rumbles clear to our feet and charges head-on. We clash and the hound goes to the ground with Beast on top. We grab his neck within our crushing jaws and crunch bone. The other hound lands on top of us, his snapping jaws taking a bit

But I knew the truth: he was rushing to seal his win on the bet, to hightail it to Chicago and kneel before his precious Seraphina. This time, I’d said yes not out of love. Nick led me to Vincent’s Fifth Avenue penthouse, the very same setting from my past life. Vincent sat behind his mahogany desk, spinning a silver Beretta 92 between his fingers, dark eyes cold and unreadable. Nick dropped my hand, stepped forward, and spoke the same icy lines I’d heard a lifetime ago. “Vincent. We had a deal. Whoever won the girl’s heart secures the Moretti marriage. I’ve won.”

I held on. "Yield!" someone in the crowd shouted. "She has to yield!" Morgessa's face was white with pain. "I yield! I yield!" I released her wrist. Shifted back to human. Stood over her. Naked. Bloody. Victorious. "Say it louder," I gasped. "So everyone hears." "I yield!" Morgessa shouted, cradling her mangled wrist. "She wins! I yield!" The crowd erupted. Some cheering. Some shocked. Some pissed that I'd actually won.

He seemed a little stunned by my words but he didn't miss a beat, "Mark me, Dea." "Walk me through it." "Call your beast forward, the rest will come to you." I did as he said and felt my beast take control. My eyes sharpened and I felt my canines elongate. Victor craned his neck to the side, allowing me to scrape my sharp teeth over the spot I'd mark. "Just do it," he growled and I followed the order, sinking my fangs in. A rush of blood filled my mouth before I could extract my teeth and lap the wound. My beast handed control back to me right after, effectively completing the bond.

I was just happy for protection. We started walking. When we were past the bonfire pit, Marc whispered, “Do you see my dad standing there?” I nodded. “We have to get to him. Don’t look back. Just walk.” I nodded, reminded of the night before my mother and I moved here. I had taken a similar trek across a field. At least I wasn’t alone this time, so it didn’t seem to take as long.

"I accept Ashford University's admission offer. Thank you!" After saying that, Horace turned and looked straight at me. The smugness on his pale face was impossible to miss. There was something else, too: the satisfaction of someone who believed revenge was finally within reach. He leaned down close to my ear and spoke softly, "You thought I'd turn it down again, didn't you? Bet you're disappointed." The comments rolled by again. [Hahaha! Look at the fake heir. He looks completely lost. He must be furious!]

Raven burst into a loud roar as he felt the pack bond forming in his mind. He got the title back.

The three enforcers lay in the dirt of the pit, whimpering and defeated. Eilis—in his massive black wolf form—stood over them, his head held high, his golden eyes glowing with a terrifying, calm brilliance. He had done it. He had fought the Feral blood and won. The silence in the chamber was broken by the King standing from his throne, a rare, genuine smile ghosting his lips. "The beast is mastered," the King proclaimed, his voice booming with pride. "The North has its Prince."