Blood Claws Novels & Stories

Claws, teeth, fury. It’s working. We’re holding. Then Cove cries. Not a battle cry. A kid cry. Tears. Sobs. Lost. The air changes. Every wolf on the field stops. Duskbane. Redfang. Blackmire. All of them. The black vines erupt again. From the cracks. From the rubble. From the bodies. They don’t grab soldiers this time. They grab wolves. One Duskbane wolf screams as vines drag him down. Then another.

Alan pulled harder beside me while blood ran down the side of his face from somewhere near his temple, though he barely seemed aware of it anymore. “Pull!” he yelled again. We did. For one brief moment Father actually moved upward slightly before the second claw slammed into the side of the opening hard enough to send another violent crack racing through the hallway floor beneath us, Matt nearly lost his footing. “Oh you have got to be kidding me,” he breathed shakily. The claws were enormous now that I could see them properly through the steam, covered in dark armored skin that looked almost metallic beneath the flashing emergency lights while long jagged talons dug effortlessly into concre

She shoved me down and huffed as she hovered over me, my cheeks stinging faintly with the cuts her nails left behind. “I could see it every time he looked at you or your brother… I could hear it when he would say your names in conversation… He still wanted her, a dead woman, over me!” Her hands came up then, showing her claws and coming closer to my face. “It was always that violet eyed bitch over me… and now I have to deal with a near clone that keeps getting in my way.” I cringed away as a twisted smile grew on her face, the darkness in her eyes increasing as her teeth started to sharpen. “I’ll dig those damned eyes out… maybe then he’ll forget her… maybe if I can remove every trace of her

A claw curved outward where flesh had been. It was long. Too long. Almost as long as my palm to my fingertips. Black. I sucked in a breath, scared. I had seen wolves, seen them shifting. Seen blood and bone tear itself apart into something else. But this? This was different. Ignoring my stare like it didn’t exist, he ran the claw down his other palm. Clean and fast as a pool of blood welled immediately. “Blaze what the hell—” I started— And then he tipped his hand.

A third one was starting to talk when I attacked, cutting him to pieces before he could finish his sentence. I stared at my claws, it was as if it absorbed the blood that stained it, they were dark blue and shimmering like my eyes. The hungry feeling subsided for a second and then it came back worse. I snarled and went after the other four, clawing through them rapidly and viciously, they were all dead and in pieces before they even realized it. Once again, blood seeped into my claws and it hummed softly as it glowed softly. The hunger at the back of my throat stopped.

The arrival of the "Void-Vanguard"—the original Shadow Claws now possessed by the Architects' "Liquidation Frequency"—turned the twilight into a funeral. They emerged from the violet-lilies of the forest like ripples in a dark pond, their armor a matte, scentless obsidian, their eyes two solid pools of liquid silver. They moved with the rhythmic, mechanical precision of a clockwork nightmare, their blades creating a low-frequency hum that made the vibrant colors of the North bleed out once again.

Though they've dispersed, their presence still lingers—ripped flowers and discarded gifts litter the concrete, while a few lingering females loiter at the entrance, whispering among themselves. My nails dig into my palms, sharp enough to draw blood. Watching them smile, seeing them happy, twists something deep in my gut. A feeling I can't name, but one that fuels the fire coursing through my veins. The irrational urge to put them in their place claws at me, tightening around my chest like a vice. My breath stutters as a sharp pain flares in my hands. When I glance down, my stomach clenches at the sight—claws, black and unforgiving, pierce into my own flesh.

I blinked, stunned, until the copper tang filled my nose. Blood. Dripping down my cheek, streaking my lips. The next—screams. My body jerked at the sound, sharp and panicked, echoing from the edges of the garden. I turned, breath trapped in my chest, wiping at my cheek, and saw Alexander’s claws buried deep into Clifford’s shoulder, dragging down his arm with enough force to rip him open. Clifford staggered back, teeth bared, blood pouring down his side as Alexander went for him again.

Even his feet seemed like someone cut them apart. Her eyes were no longer asking to see anything. The scenes horrified her soul. Anna started panicking when she heard a noise coming from behind the door. A black cat came out from there, and under the soles of those fellows, he made a cross sign using their own blood. She couldn't even utter a word, as if someone stole her voice away. Tears were flowing from her eyes like heavy rainfall. She silently watched everything, how the cat used his sharp claws to peel their skin off, and they had no power to scream.

My shoulder is aching, and my elbow is full of blood, exhausted from my long fight all day and endless battle. I groaned in pain as I felt a talon slashing my hand, leaving a deep cut in the process. I turned to see a creature swinging at me again, coming down with her razor-sharp claws, aiming for my gut. I barely ducked, and the claw scratched my face instead. I react instantly by stabbing the clone in the abdomen, then turning around, spinning and attacking the rest of the clone.