Blood Red Riding Hood Cod Novels & Stories

“Who the fuck does he think he is?!” Their voices all come at once, too fast for my overloaded brain. I throw up my hands. “Guys! Guys! I’m good. Seriously. I know rejections suck for wolves, but I’m not a wolf. I’m fine.” And then I drop the bomb. “Anyway, I know where the remaining Riding Hoods are. They’re on the Greek island of Ios.” The room goes dead silent. Then, absolute chaos. Until Devin lets out a shrill whistle that cuts through the noise like a blade.

Fylja joined the huldrefolk reel as the fossegrim rosined his bow and the fey berserkers clapped in time to the tune. Rosy took a big whiff of the roast boar, steamed apples, and cod laid out amongst sourdough, ale, and mead. "Why, Turry, this looks delicious! Maren, let's eat!" Rosy crowed, grabbing the hand of the plump Mara and bouncing off to our special seats at the table.

[2x great quality fangs, 4x great quality fur, 3x great quality claws, 2x 5lbs good quality wolf meat, 6x 9ml vials of good quality wolf blood, 1x great quality wolf skull, and 3x great quality wolf bones] Kirou's harvest left the group stunned into silence. Except for the wolf meat and wolf blood, an item the group didn't know that could be harvested at the moment being at good quality, all of the rest he obtained was at great quality, a full grade higher than Short Fuse's best work. Besides that, the group saw a few items in his list that they never knew one could even harvest from a monster corpse. Looking at the blood, skull, and bones on Kirou's list, the group had no idea how they shou

Trying to reach my heart. Whatever this creature was telling me to do couldn't be worse than this. Than fading away into nothing while some living shadow consumed me whole. I closed what was left of my eyes. Reached inward instead of outward. Dove down into myself past all the fear and panic and desperate need to survive. And there it was. A wolf the size of a bear stared back at me. Its fur was red. Not auburn or rust or any normal shade. Bright crimson. Blood red. Its eyes glowed gold in the darkness. When it opened its mouth I saw teeth made for tearing.

Once upon a time, I loved freedom so much, but his words made me fold my wings. I began to live under his protection. In those five years we'd been together, we spent countless nights in this rose manor. And he would tell me he would marry me at the end of each one. But it wasn't until now that I realized his promises were worthless. He had given me nothing except the bracelet. False prince, false love, and poor roses... Before the tears fell, I broke the bracelet that didn't really fit. Jeffrey could never keep roses. There were two days left. Then Dad would arrive.

I ended up being called Blackheart because I tend to exsanguinate my victims and watch them die and those who have met me describe me as cold and emotionless. Codenames have only been in use for roughly the last century so only three generations of my family have them. My mother is known as Aconite, due to her love of poisoning her victims, especially using aconite. My father is known by the codename Scythe since he loves his gun, and he carves a scythe into his bullets symbolising the grim reaper. Grandpa Titus has old-style flare, his is Akephaloi because he likes to decapitate people. Grandma Talyssa was a simple woman, she went with a gun, which I guess is where my dad got his weapon of

My blood ran cold as her words washed over me, and my veins turned to ice. A sudden throbbing awakened near the back of my skull, warning me of an even greater headache on its way. Me. They wanted me, to… what? In a flash, Elodie stepped forward and genuflected all in one motion. She bared her pretty teeth at the assembly, draping one leg somewhat seductively as she let one hand glide along her thigh. “Lords and Ladies” she began a little breathlessly – something very unusual for her – “It would be my greatest delight to perform for you now, in all its sensuality, a dance known to the far west of here as– “

Her longing mate lasts forever. ******* Days passed and Riding Hood still felt the same. Looking at the man who tagged her along to his nomadic way of living, hunting, skinning, and preserving his catch for goods and food. They often hunted deer, an elusive elk, black and grey hares but also big forest dogs and wolves alike. She had spent a week on an excursion and learned a lot from him. He even teased her whenever he told her that he once saw and killed a werewolf, and then he would laugh at her expectant reaction.

Her team sustained the most injuries, while the others sustained minor cuts or none at all. She was shocked to see two enormous wolves surrounding Carrie. She instantly knew they were Torvin and Kodak, offering their support and checking on her injuries. Kodak’s wolf was black and bulkier than Carrie’s, while Torvin’s was dark brown, even bigger than Kodak’s, with massive shoulders and powerful legs.

He still wasn’t done with her. Ryder swiped to the next frame. Three hooded figures entered. Trailing behind them. Shadows clinging like dark intent. Shiloh whispered, “No…” Ryder zoomed in, though smoke, crowds, and lantern flicker blurred the shapes, their faces covered. But the centre figure… The coat… A deep, unmistakable red. Abel exhaled sharply. “I think it’s her, the Crimson Rogue? Intelligence suggests this is her preferred garb.”