Books Like Feathers So Vicious Novels & Stories

•*•*•*•* Alfonso and the others are fighting against Socrates when he knelt down and coughs blood alongside with the black feathers. The black feathers are glowing and becoming violet. It is also getting bigger in a minute and it's also starting to disappear. "Black feathers?" Arnold asked. Socrates' eyes begin to vomit blood and Alexis arrived to their place. "Brother!" Alexis called Alfonso and she saw Socrates kneeling on the ground with a lot of blood. When she saw the black feathers she smiled. She's happy to see the effect of her feathers. When the black feathers totally disappear, small particles coming from it went towards Alexis.

Deadly. Sucking in a deep breath, she forced herself to open the satchel, her fingers stilling as they encountered smooth leather instead of the cold, hard steel she’d been expecting. With a rueful smile, she pulled out the heavy book that was written in a language she didn’t recognize. She wistfully trailed her fingers over the aged leather of the cover. She’d encountered various demons and warriors and even powerful witches during her travels with Francisco, but none had offered such a fascinating mixture of contrasts. Icily aloof and yet so vulnerable. Rhye was strong and yet tender. Raw, ruthless power with the soul of an alpha.

But the moment his fingertips touched the leather, the runes around the library pulsed—and the book… vanished. Like it had never been there. Alex froze. Then slowly backed away, heart racing. > “You’re hiding too, aren’t you?” he whispered to the silence. And the silence answered with a flicker of gold— —a single warbler feather, drifting from the ceiling...

Shadows danced on the stone floor like whispers with legs. Then she saw it. Right at the threshold. A single black feather, lying there perfectly still. As if it had been placed, not dropped. Her spine stiffened. Her throat tightened. Not a raven’s feather. Not even a hawk’s. She bent slowly, picked it up with trembling fingers, and studied the silky darkness. The edges shimmered with an unnatural sheen. Not of this world. Not anymore. This wasn’t just a feather. It was a summons. Her breath caught as a memory slammed into her. The last time she’d seen a feather like this was years ago, tucked into the Moon Seer’s cloak during the Rite of Blood. Right before the sky bled three wolves vanishe

Venson muttered, his intense gaze boring into Bienley's back as he clearly recognized the image of the two names. From Bienley's nape, an intricate swirling script of his and Devon's names unfurled. And woven around them was a delicate string of feathers, each one so meticulously drawn that it seemed as if they were actually fluttering in a gentle, invisible breeze. The entire image was so vivid and lifelike that it almost appeared to be in motion with every slight movement Bienley made. It was truly a sight to behold, captivating everyone who laid eyes on it. "He's so proud wearing his marks. And he even has hickeys across his chest. You're really something, Bienley Cullen," Venson said, sh

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, slow enough to make the air thrum around them. Another low growl rumbled from deep in his chest that spreaded a cold and electric kind of feeling through Freya, leading to intense want. The sudden pool of wetness she was feeling under her was all she needed to confirm tha she wanted to be intimate with the Vicious Alpha. It scared her. Was he using magic? If so, why on her? She was fucked. She suddenly missed it as his hand pulled away from her face, boots scraping faintly as he backed toward the door.

My gaze was sharp enough to send chills down anyone's spine. "And that alone is enough for me." The man stared at me in horror. For the first time, he realized the rumors were true. I was a devil in human skin... a heartless, merciless predator. And once I decided someone was a threat, they either disappeared... or learned to live in fear. I walked back to the couch and sat down. "Take him out of my sight." My voice carried irritation while my expression was indifferent. The bodyguards immediately grabbed the trembling man.

The young woman caught it and smiled, recognizing its crooked wings. With the others gone, Vivien let out a deep sigh. She pulled the hood from her head and slid to the floor, her back against the wall. She was still holding the book she’d flipped through and so she started to look over it again. The pages felt brittle in her fingers, like they could shatter if she wasn’t gentle, or crumble into dust and drift away. The words barely stayed with her; she wasn’t really seeing them. But the pictures were familiar and they calmed her a bit.

Flavius wades through the crowd of dragons until he comes upon a SpitFire much smaller than the rest. Her scales are a brilliant lilac compared to the deep violet of the other SpitFires. She slowly approaches Flavius sniffing his outstretched hand. Flavius uncurls his fingers, reaching for her head. In one swift movement, her jaws snap down on Flavius's hand. He lets out a yelp of surprise but does not try to pull his hand away. Blood drips from the mouth of the small SpitFire. She makes no move to rip Flavius's arm off, which is a good sign.

She's like the mother I never had. "Of course, I will" I said and stood up. I head out and ran into the woods. I haven't changed since my first night. I took off my clothes and hid it beside a tree. Slowly, I went on my knees and my bone started shifting and cracking. The hair on my body shot out, turning into black fur. My nose enlongated and my finger nails turned into sharp furs. My eyes were normal gold colour but sometimes, it turns black. I ran into the woods and haunt for several animals.