Caraxes Novels & Stories

Blackened steel encased his shoulders and chest, each plate etched with the sigil of the Alpha bloodline, a snarling wolf, its fangs bared in eternal defiance. Over one shoulder draped a heavy mantle of frost-kissed fur, the pelt of a beast hunted only in the northern wilds, its pale strands glinting silver beneath the gloomy clouds. Thick leather boots, strapped in dark iron buckles, sank into the snow without a sound. Gauntlets, ridged like the curve of claws, flexed with the faintest creak of leather over steel. At his hip hung a dagger honed for killing and a longer ceremonial blade, its hilt wrapped in black hide and marked with runes known only to the Alpha's bloodline.

The car was a new model—a sleek, futuristic sedan with sharp LED headlights, a panoramic glass roof, silent electric power, and a minimalist luxury interior. “Did you steal it?” Ari asked. Alexander frowned but forced a smile. “No… it’s my friend’s car, and he wants me to have it for a while.” “Oh, really?” Ari replied. “He must be a good friend of yours.” “Sure,” Alexander said as he opened the door for Ari. He then went to the driver’s seat and sat down. Alexander was tired of entering cabs all the time, and he had come up with this lie. Ari marveled at the interior as they zoomed off.

His jaw worked as he placed a file on my desk, thin, almost empty. “What am I looking at?” I asked, frowning in confusion. “Nothing,” he said grimly. “Because there is nothing, Alpha.” I frowned. “Explain.” “There’s no record of any Lorenzo D’Amaris anywhere. No registration, no pack affiliation, no land ownership, no tax traces, no trade licenses under that name. The file you sent me, the company he claimed to represent? It doesn’t exist either. It’s a ghost registration, created with fake documents two months ago. Yes, everything seems legitimate to the amateur eye, but I am surprised that Maxine didn’t see through it. Everything here is not real.”

THE LAST RIDE ~DAXON'S POV~ The garage at the Packhouse had a strong, real smell, like gas, wet weather, and guns. It was a good change from the weird, sulfur-like smell of magic upstairs. I quickly closed the trunk of the black SUV. It was packed with shiny machetes, special bullets that start fires, and enough explosives to wreck a small building. Marcus provided all of it from his personal collection. "It's not enough," I muttered, leaning against the fender.

The sky split open as Merek’s forces surrounded the stronghold. Not an army—no. That would be too easy. He brought the marked—wolves twisted by forbidden magic, eyes glowing black, bodies enhanced by shadowcraft. Not alive. Not quite dead. And he stood at their head, wearing black armor, Luna’s blood-stained dagger sheathed across his chest like a trophy. Kael stood at the gate, sword drawn, fury barely held in check. “You came to die?” he called out.

“And now she’s curious.” Dante’s nostrils flared, fury battling the satisfaction in his eyes. He leaned forward, voice low, venom curling around each word. “You should’ve spoken when you had the chance. Now you bleed for every second you waste.” Marcini panted, pain breaking his bravado. “I...I can’t give names. You don’t....You don’t know what they’ll do-” My pistol angled again. A silent gaze. “Cars!” he blurted, spit flying with desperation. “He deals in cars. Limited editions...imports....racing machines. Anything with wheels that can be flipped for millions.” His hands trembled as he tried to prop himself up, blood smearing across the tiles.

Bella said proudly. “And I did the knife work,” Kael added, brushing a thumb over the carved moon. “To remind you—you’re never alone out there. The pack always watches.” Next came Phoenix and Lucian, carrying a large black box between them. Alex raised a brow. “What’s this?” “Open it,” Phoenix grinned. Inside was a full sparring set made of reinforced lightweight armor: chest guard, arm guards, and shin guards all personalized with Alex’s name and colors—dark grey and royal blue.

I read the label etched along the barrel. Vargo's eyes widened, and without a word, he darted to the next crate. He tore it open like a child on Christmas morning. "A fucking M-16?" he laughed. "No...wait. This is an ARX-500 Helix. Holy shit." He cradled it with a strange kind of affection, popping out the mag, checking the chamber, sliding the parts with practiced hands. "This thing's been customized to hell. You could tear down a building with this."

My panties might just have dropped. Wearing the same white Egyptian-inspired attire, Axel screamed pharaoh. He didn’t wear the nemes headdress though, but that was okay. He was better without it since his long silver hair compensated the headdress by a long shot. On his forearm were silver vambraces that I found very sexy on him, and these complemented the gold shoulder collar and the wide cincture belt he wore. Even with strapped, flat sandals, he still towered above me, but I didn’t mind this height difference. I loved the way his eyes sparkled when he looked down on me. “My mate,” he said while tugging his lips up.

Amar tore the clothes Axelina was wearing with a sneer at Axelina. "I will enjoy your beautiful body, because you are mine," said Amar right in Axelina's ear. Ammar licked Axelina's ear until it made Axelina shudder. Amar pulled Axelina's breastplate with one pull. The peak of Axelina's breasts is clearly visible, which is pink with skin as white as milk. Axelina tried to cover her breasts with fear that got over her.