Black Cat Claws Novels & Stories

I could feel the leash holding Emrae in place fray to barely a single thread’s width. “You creepy bastard!” I screamed, slamming my hands into his chest. Kade staggered backward, his eyes wide in surprise. If he had been a lesser being, the force would have sent him flying into the wall. I looked down at my hands. My red nails had morphed into long black claws, and I could hear my breathing change to something low and gravelly. “You stay the fuck away from my pups,” Emrae and I growled simultaneously. But Kade wasn’t having it. His eyes darkened, showing his wolf. “You killed my pup,” he growled. “You heartless bitch!”

“I don’t really know if I should be grateful for that fall or not. You seem like a whole new person. You look… different. The good kind of different. Not like how you always wore those dull clothes. I’m impressed.” Silence stretched between us. Thick. Heavy. I stared at him, chest rising and falling too fast. “Tell me something, Dimitri,” I said quietly. “Where is this? Why did that woman grow claws? I’m so confused.” He reached out, placed both hands on my shoulders. Steady. Warm. “You must have hit your head really hard.” His voice was gentle. Patient. “It’s normal for us to grow claws when we’re angry. Or about to shift.”

⸻ He had simply opened a door. ⸻ And now something was walking through it. ⸻ The abyss exploded. ⸻ A claw emerged. ⸻ Everyone froze. ⸻ The claw was enormous. ⸻ Covered in black crystal. ⸻ Ancient silver markings crawled across its surface. ⸻ But the markings were broken. ⸻ Corrupted. ⸻ Twisted. ⸻ Like something beautiful had rotted. ⸻ A second claw appeared.

Claws fully extended, I lunged at the nearest two… a massive black-eyed brute and its foaming companion barreling straight for Zeph’s flank. The first one never saw me coming. My hand punched through its chest, fingers closing around its still-beating heart. I ripped it free in a wet, tearing spray of blood and gore, the organ pulsing once in my palm before I crushed it. The rogue’s body crumpled, ribs splayed open like broken wings, black blood pooling beneath it.

The body was already blue, cold and those dark eyes that had been so empty were truly lifeless now, staring at me. I lifted his hands up, the strange sight of his claws shocked me. Wolves didn't die with their claws or fangs out, it was almost impossible. Everything shrunk inside when we died. So why were his claws out? I held them up to examine them. They were discolored with death, brownish and turning black but there was still a tinted and colored hue, green just at the tip. What was it. I held it tightly and tore it out. There was no satisfying scream this time, that would have reduced my anger.

His sharp eyes snapped open startling me for a moment and I swiftly took a protective step backwards. His canines protruded and blood coated the tips of his elongated claws as I paused hoping for some reason he would not find me if I stayed unmoving. I watched as his extra sharp teeth returned into his mouth and his eyes fell to his blood stained hands. His claws had left some deep scratchs on his neck but he didn't seem the least affected by it.

Nothing. Suddenly Tabby coughed, and blood gurgled from her mouth. She threw her hands up, then lurched from the ground as though about to leap away. Her eyes were wide open, a bleak emptiness in them. Claws began to appear on her hand, replacing her fingers. She growled and tore at the air, as though she was desperate to find something to tear into. Piercing screams left her mouth and filling our ears.

His pupils bled to black-red until there was nothing but a bottomless void. Then came the claws. They tore through his gloves first, then through skin as if the flesh couldn’t contain them. They weren’t normal claws; they were long, curved, slick as obsidian, veined faintly red as though blood had frozen inside them. His shirt shredded, seams popping one after another until it fell in ribbons off his shoulders. I backed against the wall, my legs shaking so hard they barely held me. “Saint…” It came out in a weak whisper, but he didn’t even glance at me.

Making her see Nicholas as a hideous monster. Her hand tentatively rose, timid and trembling. Reaching out to touch Nicholas' cheek. She didn't get to. Because there was a much larger one firmly wrapping around her slender wrist. Holding it so tightly. He had...claws instead of nails now. And his fingers didn't look normal anymore. They were black. As if tipped in black paint. And they ended in long, sharp and scary-looking claws. The kind that you only see in horror movies. Her breath hitched within her throat. Staring between those demon-y eyes of his with nothing but fear. Uncertainty.

The door was solid oak with heavy locks. Beautiful, comfortable, and absolutely inescapable. Perfect. I reached carefully into my elaborately styled hair and extracted a small crystal, no bigger than a pearl. The communication device pulsed with soft blue light as I activated it with a whisper of power. "I am in," I whispered quietly. Static crackled for a moment before a familiar voice responded—rough, commanding, tinged with the kind of darkness that made smart people run. "About time, little wolf. Status report."