Black Rock Shooter White Rock Shooter Novels & Stories

The Solar Eclipse Pack was a small pack that consisted of about 500 wolves and 100 of them were warriors. they were located in the rural parts of Virginia, more specific closer to Marion, Virginia. They have been fighting other packs around them for months,because they were the smallest pack of the packs around them. Those fight were more for territory over anything else. The strongest of any of the packs around them was the Blood Lust pack. All they cared about was power and territory.

“And no, it wasn’t Max. He meant to intervene but turns out he didn’t need to. Should I tell you all why? Or do you already know?” “Stop!” My mother strictly said. This is how she sounded when she berated us. Kent’s smile grew further up his cheeks. He looked at me, then came closer to examine me. His dark eyes followed my body, up and down. “Plain. Simple. Nothing extraordinary about her. Nothing like Marianna.” He stopped in front of me, his eyes reading mine. He searched for a few seconds, not sure what he was looking for, but I was being taken by their color. They weren’t fully black. It was almost like they had a hue of red in them. This was the first time I had seen a werewolves—a male

I was living for revenge. I waited until midnight, when the pack village was completely asleep and the patrols were focused on the outer borders. I couldn't leave my brothers here like this. I carried them, one by one, into the deep woods behind our cabin, near the hidden clearing where our parents were buried. I didn't have a shovel. I didn't have any tools. But I didn't need them. As the last surviving White Wolf, a royal lineage of pure power, there was a hidden, monstrous strength buried deep inside me. I fell to my knees in front of my parents' old, overgrown graves and began to dig into the earth with my bare hands.

My off-road vehicle tore across the border line, but I didn't head toward the bustling human cities. Instead, I turned the wheel toward the one place every werewolf feared to tread: Death Valley. There, I found them. A pack of Rogues, cast out and exiled by their former tribes. They were a sorry sight—missing legs, blinded eyes, dressed in rags that barely clung to their emaciated frames. Their eyes held nothing but hollow despair. In my last life, I wasted my White Wolf gifts playing the dutiful housewife, cooking soup for two ungrateful Alphas.

alpha Rowan says, he looked ruffed up, he had a big bite over his neck, and my eyes kept going back to that point on his neck. The two alphas sat next to each other on one side and I sat on the opposite one, I kept avoiding their eyes, worried that I won't be in trouble now. "Have you ever heard about white wolves?" alpha Aiden asks me and I shake my head no. "Verbal answers please," alpha Rowan order me. "Okay, haven't heard," I say in a mumbling voice. "White wolves are the rarest wolves out there, some people don't believe they exist, do you know how many there are out in the world?" alpha Aiden asks me and I shake my head no.

He would study the White Spike and try to kill it. A Tier 3 monster had to drop some serious loot. Jake cranked the wheel hard. The black armed fortress veered off the main road, rolling slowly toward the White Spike—stopping at the edge of the cannon's effective range.

Krister asked, looking at his tablet still before walking to the back room. “Black? She doesn’t-- I mean didn’t wear anything else?” she asked, her eyebrows meeting in the middle confused. “Don’t tell me she’s one of those people…” “Yes, specifically black clothing. They’re hot in the day but you disappear in the night. That’s what she always said to me.” Krister disappeared in the back to get something whilst Rojean was left there to contemplate on her own how she was going to pull the act off if she was a bad liar herself.

Standing out slightly from his body – and growing heartbeat by heartbeat. Not hard yet, not fully erect, but definitely getting there. He was getting turned on by being naked in front of me. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck. “I got this one for the first album,” he said, and pointed to the tattoo. It was a realistic reproduction of the cover of Bigger Than Yours, which featured a .44 Magnum Smith & Wesson Model 29 – the revolver that Clint Eastwood used in the Dirty Harry movies. Opposing it, and shrinking down under the eight-inch barrel, was a tiny little Walther PPK – also known as the gun James Bond uses.

I wobble on my feet, completely exhausted but manage to keep the stray wolf firmly in a chokehold. He lets out a cruel laughter, like his teammates dead around him didn't mean anything. "You fight a losing battle. We have a weapon that can kill an immortal." He throws his head back, letting out a hysterical laugh. "You fight a losing battle, mortals!" Ryker's hand extends into a claw, which he plunges into the man's side. I let go of him, watching the last of the rogues crumble to the floor. "They drive me fucking mad," Ryker mutters, walking away, barking out orders to Ragnar's minions.

Dad grabbed the nurse, throwing her out of the room alongside himself. "Well-done, Emily, you have accomplished your mission." A sinister scent emerged, a wicked laugh echoing across the room. The once blue sky was now a mixture of black and white with the moon reflecting its radiant image. Wails filled the air as a ray of light fell from the sky, hitting a mountain on the other side of town. I groaned, wincing as my hand was scorched by the flaming book. The pages settled, words in red appearing on the pages. "Strigoi, Nosferatu, Jiangshi…"