Cataclysm Cat Noir Novels & Stories

AVA I screamed as Cane collapsed just steps from the palace gates, Leah's dark magic still crackling through the air. I dropped to my knees beside him, terror flooding my chest like a tidal wave. The wound on his back burned with unnatural energy, spreading fast like a poison. Through the mate bond, I felt his pain like it was my own. My wolf howled in panic, sensing our mate's distress. I could feel Cane's life force ebbing away, and I knew I had to act fast.

Another snarl came out, just as harsh as the other one, but this time it came from behind me. I turned my torso to see four other wolves. Hyene was a light brown, which was a few shades lighter than her hair. The wolf that really stunned me, though, was Claire. Without her attacking me, I was able to really look at her. She had a salt and pepper coloring, black and white covering her whole body. Her bright blue eyes shone brightly in the early hours of the morning, really confirming to me that my best friend was a Shifter.

“I only found out what it was after using my Alpha Sight on Morana. She’s found out that my mother was in a sort of cult who worships the creature and sacrificed her life for the entity to be attached to Morana.” Nova winces. “That’s harsh. Those close to us seem to be the ones who cause us the most pain,” she says, and something tells me she knows exactly what she’s talking about. “But luckily, Caterina has told me what to do to get rid of this monster.” When we reach the living room, Camellia and Morana look up expectantly. Camellia, seeing Nova for the first time, stands and extends a hand. “Hi, I’m Camellia,” she says. “I don’t think we’ve ever met before.... have we? ”

"You were interrupted by chaos. This... this is natural. This is the conclusion of the narrative." "It sucks," Elion said, wiping his eyes. "Entropy is not designed to be pleasant. It is designed to be final." Barnaby let out a small sound. A chirp. Cale leaned down. "I am here, Lieutenant. Report." The cat opened his eyes. They were cloudy, blind. He looked up at Cale. He couldn't see him, but he knew the scent. He knew the heat. He purred. It was a broken, rattling purr. But it was there.

Kimber stood by, watching the ensuing chaos in horror. “Dragon, I'll get you, all of you,” he screamed, as Nick and Adam held him down.But Madchen paid no attention, as she watched Drago turn a shade of blue, and foam at the mouth. “Drago!” She dropped to her knees, shaking him by the shoulders, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he stared up at the lights, seeming catatonic. His green eyes faded to a deep black, rolling to the back of his head.

For all she knew, it was all a bit of gibberish. But the other three perked up at the idea. “Can you remember exactly what he said?” Venette asked, taking a step forward. Asteria leaned back in her chair, resting her head against cushiony velvet that had likely sat in this same room for five centuries. “I don’t remember exactly what he said. Something about devils dancing from one world to the next. That’s where blackness dwells and entrapment might be permanent.” She suddenly felt exhausted and clambered to her feet. “That’s all I can tell you.” The exchange of blank stares between the three of them was evidence none of them had any idea what Daunator may have been talking about, and she ha

Nathaniel's temple throbbed, and his chest felt as though an iron weight had fallen upon it, shattering not only his ribs but the shield around his heart. Pain flowed in searing rivers as his heart released knowledge that had been locked away through fear and chained by the creature that gnawed at his soul. The name of the beast. '...Marquis of fire, rider of the black steed! Through flames and words, be present with me. Accept the offering and appear to me...Kiamaris...master of the hidden.' Nathaniel's legs buckled. Willpower and a grip on the railing kept him standing. Now he remembered. The ritual written in blood, the shadowy grandeur of the summoned beast.

A secret path through the frost-silver trees, cloaked by enchantment and shadow. The path led to a clearing long forgotten by the rest of the world. Twelve skulls—snow-white and wolf-boned—circled a silver tree with bark like light and leaves like night. This was where she found her. Mother Noira. The pack witch. The Shaman of the White Wolves. Her skin was the color of storm clouds, her eyes blind but glowing with thin threads of violet. Runes were carved into her flesh, old magic pulsing from her bones like breath.

"Then Orion must be the one in great danger now. As what have my father said, Nerissa don't kill her preys right away. She plays with their minds first, but after that, she kills them mercilessly. Also, the weaker the mind of the man, the more possibility that he will go insane even after he is rescued. I hope your friend has a strong mind so he it will be easy for us to awaken him from Nerissa's magic later on." We continued walking but moments later, we made an abrupt stop when we heard roara that echoed in the whole place. I turned nervously and my heart started to beat frantically when I saw two giant tigers with two heads and snakes as their tails. They look at us as if they are hunters

A visible wave of pure, concentrated thermal heat—so hot that the concrete walls began to liquefy into molten glass—rippled from her palms. With a deafening roar of tearing metal, the secure vault doors didn't just unlock; they were violently blown off their hinges, the reinforced titanium panels melting into liquid slag as Clara stepped across the threshold, her white silk robe billowing around her like a shroud of pure flame. She sprinted up the ruined stone steps, entering the shattered remains of the grand living room. The floor-to-ceiling glass windows were entirely gone, the freezing tropical storm screaming through the space. Out on the ruined terrace, five of the largest Lycan elders