Bungou Stray Dogs Novels & Stories

He was a wild animal, and he needed a wild space. "No one should live anywhere but under the sky," came a smooth and slightly slurred voice. Besla had glided ever so silently up and landed with barely a noise. No wonder the harpies were such efficient predators. And Besla was carrying a bottle of tequila in her hand. "I never understood how the Strays could live in a hole. No offense." "It was home," Robbie replied, trying to straighten up. "It was comfortable and . . . well, we thought it was safe."

“Why not?” The chief kicked at one of the plastic pumpkins. “Because of this kind of bullshit,” he said. “We’ve been getting these calls since sundown yesterday, but I hear it’s worse in the country. Vandalism. Prowlers. More of those damn stray dogs. Kids have started up drag racing out at the quarry again. Had a big crash last night. Both drivers in the hospital.” “Jesus.”

This was the edge of the Gray Zone, a lawless strip of territory where neither the Ashford Pack nor their rivals dared to enforce full order. "Look what walked out of the high-rise district," a raspy voice called from the shadows. Three figures emerged from the gloom. Their elongated fangs and yellow-tinted eyes marked them as feral rogues—wolves who had lost their pack standing and survived by preying on the weak. "She smells like the Ashfords, but there’s no wolf in her," another growled, stepping into the dim light of a flickering streetlamp. "A stray human toy. Let's see what she's carrying."

I glanced at Burog, still sitting faithfully by the fire with his tail wagging expectantly. "Don't move, and bark if the rice boils over." He woofed once in acknowledgment and settled back down on his haunches. See? Well-mannered... until he spots a female dog in heat. Then he's faster than lightning and just as single-minded. I grabbed a woven basket and headed down to the sand to hunt for shells-enough to string together a few necklaces or bracelets to sell later at the market. "HAAAA!" I stretched my arms wide, closing my eyes to breathe in the cool, clean air. The rhythmic crash of waves against the shore was music to my ears, a constant reminder of the beauty that surrounded me, even in

It's just that I don't seem to do the same sort of living as everyone else. And it was true that Iris's life little resembled that of those in town. She had been chosen at birth for the path of Candlemaiden, raised by Mother Hall amongst the spirits of another world. Her first pet had been a drowned cat, whose violent passing had left his grumpy ghost at the mercy of young Iris, who would chase him around the garden and try to feed him carrots. Iris remembered Tommy fondly, with his fat squashed face and scraggly fur, but it always ached a bit to recall when she had sent him away, when she had lit the lavender candles that bade him leave her world.

“Oh? A woman?” “Why is there a stray dog here in the middle of the night?” Gasping for breath, I took a step back. But then, another man emerged from behind me. I found myself trapped in the center, my heart sinking as I realized I was surrounded. “So, this is where the enticing scent is coming from. Grr.” “She’s incredibly attractive as well.” I huddled my shoulders, desperately attempting to establish some form of communication with them. Rogues. They are rogues.

She gives me a look that says, Don't you dare call me a pet. "She’s a stray," I lie. I try to sound casual. "She showed up a while back. I think she ran away from a breeder or something. Huskies are known for being runners." Sombra thumps her tail once. It sounds like a threat. Liddy isn't buying it. She walks closer, inspecting Sombra like a piece of furniture with a stain on it. "A stray?" Liddy purses her lips. "That explains why she has no manners. She’s staring at me like she wants to bite me."

“Tell me, what brought you here?” Macholo’s voice was respectful as he replied. “We stole a high-value Mercedes-Benz S-Class. We transferred money from the victim’s phone, took some jewelry, and...” He hesitated for a moment. “We also took a dog.” The Don raised an eyebrow. “A dog?” He sounded like it was something he wasn’t expecting. “What kind?” “An Australian shepherd,” Macholo replied. “A well-kept one.” The Don’s interest deepened. He leaned forward, tapping his pipe lightly against the ashtray. “An Australian shepherd, you say? That's a fine breed. Loyal, intelligent.”

Five years ago, I took the blame for every crime my family had committed and was thrown out of Black City like a stray dog. Five years later, I returned as the Donna—the head of Raven, one of the world's most powerful mafia organizations. Only to find that my family had been framed and destroyed, and our stronghold burned to the ground. In an abandoned slaughterhouse, blood ran across the floor. Isabella, the arrogant heiress of the newly powerful Leoni family, was grinding her red-soled heel into my cousin Marco Franco's face. "You Franco piece of trash. Kneel and beg me, be my dog, and I'll toss you a scrap of food." Blood ran from Marco's nose and mouth, but he clutched the Zippo lighter—

Lesley gave them permission to go, the duo held hands and went into the bush. _______Group A "Jack come in over." Callum press the push to talk button on the walkie talkie, calling out to Jack. "Go ahead." Jack voice is heard few seconds later. "Just checking, how long are we gonna be out here?" Callum pressed the push to talk button, taking a look at his group. "I've found something." Claire said out of the blue giving Hayley a scare. "What'd you find?" Ezra queried. "I think it's a bike track." She replied, bending on one knee to take a better look.