Book Hounds Novels & Stories

She had sneaked into the library quite a few times before to know the way around it. One after another books appeared, and finally after summoning at least twenty books, she exclaimed, “Finally!” Arthur huffed loudly and moved closer and read the title of the book, “The Bestiary.” “I have read this,” Arthur spoke without any interest. “So, can you tell me what kind of beast are we dealing with here?” Mila asked. Arthur just shrugged.

Kennedy POV. The weather was bad, but I needed to get that new book, it's Robert birthday gift, who'd knew a grown up man would kill for the newest werewolf love book. I got into my car, drove carefully toward the local book store, they had the new book reserved for me. It was supposed to one quick drive, until I walked into the library. A girl was sitting on a bean bag, her blond hair was covering her eyes with overgrown bangs, she tried to huff them away from her face but to no use. She looked young, maybe she's just here with her parents, looking down at the book she had in her hands it was a kids story. Does she read for the local kids? Or is it just for her?

"I found something. In the library. About the red-eyed rogues. They’re not rogues. They’re bloodhounds." His expression darkened. "Show me." I nodded. "It’s in the old library. A book left open. It matches everything. And the wounded guard... he said one of them smiled at him. Told him it was just the beginning." Max looked at the council wolves. "We need to confirm this. Now. If what Ivy says is true, we’re dealing with something far worse than a rogue attack." One of the council wolves spoke. "bloodhounds were destroyed long ago."

I stood on my hind legs and stared down at my paws, fucking bigger than my old hands, claws sharp and curved. Then the hunger hit. Not for food. For blood and for the scent of wolves. I crushed the book beneath one massive paw. Pages ripped, scattering like ash in the wind. I could smell it before I even saw it—Dawn’s pack, sitting high on the hill, torches burning around it. Smoke, cooked meat, wolf scent thick with arrogance, all carried on the wind. I didn’t hide. I ran straight at it. The first guard didn’t see me coming, I slammed into him, and he tumbled backward, stunned.

The first howl came at dawn. It wasn’t one of ours. It was guttural, wrong—like something dead trying to remember how to sing. The sound cut through the morning mist like a blade, silencing the forest in a single breath. Birds stilled. The wind died. Even Nyx went stiff in my chest, ears pinned back, hackles raised. Mara burst into my cabin a moment later, still half-shifted, her eyes golden and wild. “They’re at the eastern ridge,” she growled. “Cursed ones. Four, maybe five. We don’t know if they’ve crossed the border yet.”

Today's research had been beyond draining, adding to the fact that Maura is extremely bubbly, she basically wore me out with her endless talk. The hallway was quiet, save for the distant murmur of voices. My footsteps were soft, padded against the wooden floor. The last thing I wanted was to run into anyone and exchange unnecessary pleasantries. Then the air changed. A sharp scent—metallic, primal, feral—hit my nose, and my feet slowed. Just ahead, the door to the courtyard was cracked open. Every part of my being screamed to turn back, but for some reason, I felt a strong pull. I inched forward, drawn by something I couldn’t name, and peeked through the gap.

I pressed my back against the wall, on the side of the doorknob, took the safety off the gun, and gently pushed on the door. I let it swing halfway open and listened. The lock was unsalvageable, I wasn’t sure the doorknob could be saved either. There was no sound coming from inside. There was a whiff of wolves though. No human did this. That pissed me off. A stupid human, not knowing who they’re robbing breaking into my home sucks, but a wolf… They know it belongs to a wolf. They could smell it. But they did it anyways. Fucking city wolves.

Chapter 13 — The Weight of Being Seen I learned something important that morning. Silence inside a wolf den isn’t peaceful. It’s watching. The Blackthorn Pack compound was awake long before the sun climbed fully into the sky. I could feel it even with my eyes closed—the shift of bodies, the low murmur of voices beyond stone walls, the scrape of boots against the courtyard floor. The pack breathed together like one massive creature, and I was trapped inside its ribcage.

“Is there a reason you’re trying to make me feel small? I don’t back down that easily.” “Hm… wasn’t thinking of it.” “Really? Then what were you thinking about?” “Maybe later. Now isn’t the time to talk about it. How long will it take for you people to get here?” “Oh, the Hounds will be here in the next two or three hours, and they come bearing food, gents. Hilda’s cooked and packed some spare things from our Christmas Fare. So, eating will be good.” “The Hounds?” Hal looked up from his computer for possibly the first time since she entered the room and dropped the information on them. None really had looked surprised, which was odd with nothing else considered.

They were turning the pages as quickly as possible to find any reference to this creature until they found a page titled ‘Black Dogs’ It had drawings to the creatures in it and when shown to Rory he would yelp in disbelief, the look on the page was so detailed. The book read: Black Dogs are a sign of great problems to come, they only act at the behest of hell and the one that summoned them. Black Dogs are giant hounds bred on the lower levels of Hades, they reach 46” in height, and with big and athletic builds, their teeth are large and sharp and always in display, and their tails are long and thick as workers' rope. Their eyes are red and orange like a flame as if their spirits were flamed