Bloody Fangs Novels & Stories

"Something specifically designed for dragon blood." The fire in my chest recoiled. Animal. Reflexive. "They were going to kill me," I said. "Tonight. In the ceremony. In front of everyone." "They were going to *contain* you—" "Don't." My voice came out very quiet. "Don't clean the language up. Not now. Not after twenty-two years of cleaned-up language." He stopped. The smoke drifted. The charred moonblossom breathed its sweet-burnt smell into the silence between us.

“Try harder.” He lunged again. I sidestepped and my hand caught his wrist. I twisted hard. His bones crunched. He yelped. The dagger fell and it thudded into the dirt. I kicked it away. Hell! My arm screamed with pain. Blood soaked my sleeve but I ignored it. I had to make this look real. I tackled him. We crashed to the ground. Dust choked my throat. My claws raked his shoulder and warm and sticky blood sprayed. It splattered all over my face.

“Wasn't trying to be funny” What was Floyd on about? The Bloodfangs were the pack’s sworn enemies. And his mother, rarely spoken about. Like some sickness in the air. What did she have to do with that?. “But the Blood fangs…they're monsters–murderers” Floyd studied him for a while, then exhaled through his nose in a loud sigh. “Figures. They’d rather let you wander blind than choke on the truth.” His mouth opened and shut again. “Nope. Don't even think about it," Floyd told him.

Rather he and his men saved her. Bright light flooded the room and Rosy pulled the duvet down to see a very furious Sergio glaring down at her. “What happened? Who was that?” She stammered at him. Instead of answering, he withdrew a military knife from his waistband. Still staring hard at Rosy, he slid it across his palm and Rosy gasped in terror. She tried scrambling away from him but he was faster. He caught her by wrist and in one swift motion sliced her palm, droplets of her blood ruining the bed covers.

His eyes gleam like coals buried deep, fury bright. We clash again. Fang on fang, claw on claw, our bodies a blur of violence. He lunges for my throat. I twist, his teeth snap air, and I rake my claws down his face, leaving three red stripes across his muzzle. He howls, staggered, and I surge forward, jaws locking around his scruff.

His lip split, blood dripping down his chin. “Mention her one more time,” I snarled, my chest heaving, my wolf clawing beneath my skin, “and I’ll forget every rational reason I have left. I’ll commit a brutal murder right here.” Blackfang straightened slowly, swiping the blood from his jaw with the back of his hand and then he smiled.

The air was suffocating, choked with the metallic tang of blood, the acrid scent of burning debris, and the heavy tension that hung over the land like a storm refusing to break. Every breath I took felt like inhaling shards of glass, sharp with anticipation and dread. Below me, the battlefield seethed with violence, a feral dance of claws and fury, where screams of agony clashed with the guttural roars of beasts locked in combat. The Deadly Fang Pack, led by the relentless and vengeful Ariel, surged forward with primal vengeance in their eyes, meeting the brute strength of my father Harry’s faction head-on.

“Bloody fang, Vamptini, Dark Fangroni, Blood on the beach, Full moonscow, et cetera et cetera.” What in the world is going on here? I’ve never heard of these. There is no such thing. The bartender smirked. “Try this, it's on the house.” He handed me a dark red drink. It looked thick. I questioned if I should drink it. Me being me, of course, I drank it. The bartender stifled out a laugh at my reaction. It was strong, but it tasted weird. Weird. “What is this? It tasted a little weird. I smacked my lips in distaste.

I let his closeness enter my systems and lower my defenses. I didn’t want to, but I trusted him. He walked over to my brother’s motionless body. His pallor had worsened, blood pooled on the bed, where the wound on his head was still open. “I don’t like you seeing this,” he murmured, just before his fangs grew.