Black Cat Claws Novels & Stories

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.

With a fierce bellow, the Black Wolf Demon Emperor struck out his palm. In an instant, countless black stiff hairs sprouted on his right hand, and his nails turned black. His palm suddenly expanded, turning into a massive wolf claw, with black Demon Aura twirling around his fingers. The moment the fist and the palm collided, the wolf claw caught Ding Hao's fist. "Shatter!" The Black Wolf Demon Emperor shouted. The magical powers and strength of the Black Demon Wolves were concentrated in their claws.

Seeing the distracted state of the two giant black bears that are fully enjoying their meal without an ounce of caution in their surroundings, Lyor’s black wolf’s ears twitched as he bent his limbs, storing force on his paws before flashing like a cannon to the unsuspecting back of the nearest black bear. Silvery white claws glimmered under the light of the sun as Lyor brandished them above the thick furry neck of the giant black bear. But, the expected shower of blood did not happen as his claws that could cut parry steel met with resistance the deeper it pierced on the giant black bear’s neck.

His claws were like rusted knives, ready to tear flesh apart. But the most terrifying aspect was his eyes. Completely black, without iris or sclera. Two deep, unfathomable pits that seemed to suck the soul. Above his deformed head, white hair shone like exposed bones. The pointed ears kept moving, amplifying the sounds of Leia's rapid breathing.

"She'll listen to you. Be the Beta she needs." Something dark and primal stirs within me, a volatile mix of anger and wounded pride. Without thinking, I extend my left arm, the bones and muscles shifting and contorting beneath my skin. My claws, long and wickedly sharp, emerge with a soft snick. With a swift, brutal motion, I rake them across my forearm, the skin tearing open in three crimson lines. Blood wells up, dark and thick, and the scent fills the air. Even as my mother gasps, I shove my bleeding, already healing hand inches from her face.

Pre-cum had already seeped through, darkening the wool. My claws slid out unbidden, scoring the leather arms of my chair. "Fuck!" I slammed back into the chair. It groaned in protest. My right index finger tapped the armrest--a mechanical rhythm. Not a finger anymore. A black claw, half an inch long, scraping faint lines into the leather. My blood was fire in my veins. Every cell screamed with a feral need to possess. On the screen, the timestamp ticked mercilessly: 04:45. 04:46.

surging inside of me. “We are one.” They both said at once And my eyes snapped open. And the forest lit up as well One eye burned amber… wild and unrelenting and ancient. The other glowed dark forest green.. calm, earthy and ancient. I reached up to touch my face.. claws. Not nails. Claws. My hair fell in front of my eyes, strands of raven black and burnished brown cascaded down my shoulder. I exhaled.. and the ground beneath me trembled.

The same symbols I'd seen Maya painting in her cell earlier, before they'd separated us. The claw had too many joints. Three, then four, then five as it unfolded itself. Each one bent in directions that shouldn't be possible. At the end were talons longer than my forearm, curved and serrated like they were designed to tear through flesh and bone with equal ease. The runes carved into the claw's surface glowed with the same sickly green light as the symbols on the walls. They pulsed in rhythm with something, a heartbeat maybe, slow and steady and wrong.

It wasn’t done. He could feel his bones moving—shifting. They weren’t breaking clean; they were reshaping. Bending where no bone should ever bend, dragging against muscle, splitting sinew as they forced themselves into new shapes. His hands curled into fists. His fingers—no, his nails—split open, nails lengthening into something sharp, black, and deadly. The tips exploded outward, spraying blood and dirt. He looked down through blurred vision, watching his hands become claws. His chest heaved. His back arched. He ripped at his clothes, every fiber of instinct screaming to be free. His shirt tore easily under his new claws, the fabric sticking to the blood slicking his skin.

While my friend signed her papers, I pulled out my phone and ordered a taxi. When I looked up again, she was still busy writing something, and behind her stood a tall, broad-shouldered man. Darkness seemed to coil around him, and the air itself felt charged with danger. I narrowed my eyes, studying him—wide, muscular shoulders, black wavy hair. But his face—I couldn’t see it. He leaned slightly toward Maya, as if… smelling her. Odd, to say the least. Then his hands, clasped behind his back, began to change. My heart dropped to my heels when I saw black, sharp claws glinting where his fingers had been.