Big Meaty Claws Novels & Stories

He always tries to watch and disappears into the privy afterward. My stomach knots. I’m in deep trouble. My wolf and I both instinctively look to Clay for help, but he’s glaring Eldrick down. Eldrick is the largest Claw, at least six foot tall and 250 pounds, but Clay’s people have been Ditches for generations, and our rank breeds bigger. Eldrick’s chest begins to rumble, too, and he draws back his thick lips to show off his descended fangs. Claws never retract them. It’s meant to frighten folks into baring their necks, and it works. I duck my head even lower.

Those razor sharp claws digging into my flesh. But it's those large blue eyes that hold my attention. Stuck, paralyzed, I lay there as the animal lowers its mussel inches away from me. Hot breath assaults my face as it lets out an annoyed growl. It has me flinching, begging for my life, but there’s no way a wild animal can understand my cries. It’s to be expected when its teeth sink into my unpinned shoulder, crunching through my bones.

Marcus staggers backward, eyes wide, looking down at his shirt where four parallel tears have appeared in the fabric. Four tears that match exactly the spacing of my fingers. "Aeliana." Marcus's voice sounds far away, even though he's standing right in front of me. "Look at your hands." I don't want to look. I can feel them changing, feel something sharp emerging from my fingertips, feel strength flooding through muscles the kind of power that is fuelled by anger and the need to kill. But I look anyway. Claws. Actual claws where my fingernails should be, curved and razor-sharp. My hands look longer somehow, more graceful but infinitely more dangerous.

For the pack. He could see the panic that arose in the Minister’s eyes upon hearing the footsteps. Not long after, troops after troops could be seen behind him, looking as intimidating as ever with their bloody state and heavy firearms. The Minister visibly gulped at the sight. And here he thought they were gonna rush to the females and pups. “The White Claw Pack never leaves a fight unfinished,” drawled Axel in a slow, menacing way. “We don’t leave on alive to tell our tales. What happens in the pack stays in the pack.”

It was a visual testament to the untamed power coursing through his veins. His muscular physique exuded a primal strength, each sinew and bulge a testament to the immense power dwelling within him. His claws, elongated and razor-sharp, gleamed menacingly in the light, poised to rend through flesh and bone with ease. Fangs, like ivory daggers, lined his powerful jaws, ready to deliver a devastating bite.

At this moment,the lackey with the cat like claw stomped on the ground viciously, causing cracks to spread out across the ground. His hands took the form of a cat claw, and his veins could be seen popping out across the back of his hands and indeed it was a horrifying sight to behold. After that, he took a step forward showcased his inert abilities and then, he stretched his feet outward and a strong friction was instantly created between his feet and the ground. All of a sudden, he appeared before Diana like a bolt of lightning, his cat iron claw aiming straight at Diana's stomach.

Kage’s rumbling in his chest was beginning to get louder and his right hand was beginning to shift, claws starting to come out. Is this idiot seriously going to shift?!

He charged, extending his claws to their full length as the bloodlust grew in his eyes. Fuck! He was too damn fast! I clanked the claws of his hand against mine, but his other ones pierced through my stomach. Blood filled my mouth as I felt my insides getting sliced by his primal wickedness. He withdrew his claws, causing another wave of pain to slam against every nerve in my body. The blood loss was making me weaker, but my fury only rose, hardening my muscles and enhancing my senses. I swung my claws, making a long cut across his throat, slicing his flesh along with the leather strap with the red crystal tied to it.

Its eyes were a dismal blood red, devoid of intelligence, and driven only by a crazed ravenous hunger. The ferocious beast let out a terrible, twisted growl, its razor-sharp claws swinging straight for Clara's throat. Instinct, sharpened over many years as a renegade, took control. Clara flung herself sideways, her silk robe splitting a little as she rolled on the rough stone floor. The beast’s claws missed her neck by a fraction of an inch, striking the volcanic rock with such force that it sent a shower of sparks into the blackness. The beast turned around with unnatural, jerky speed, its jaw unhinging as a thick, white foam fell from its yellowed fangs.