Claws Of Rage Novels & Stories

I shook my head, “I—what? I didn't do anything! We were in a crash, Yasmine, a wolf—” Before I could finish, Yasmine lunged forward, grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me up to my feet. The sharp pain in my scalp made me gasp. “That little stunt you pulled at the game!” She hissed right into my face. “The official's kid! They followed us back, Trixie! The Northern pack retaliated!” My heart stopped. “No... it couldn't have—” Yasmine shoved me back down to the ground with everything she had. “It did!” She screamed, her voice cracking as a fresh wave of tears tracked through the dirt on her cheeks.

His claws came out. He tore into the rogue wolf with a rage I had never seen before. Blood splattered. The rogue howled in pain, but Killian didn’t stop. He ripped, growled, punched, clawed. The warrior beside him tried to speak, but Killian was gone. Lost in his fury. The rogue hit the ground, whimpering. But Killian wasn’t done. His claws slashed down again. The ground shook with each hit. Luca pulled me back, but I couldn’t move. My eyes were locked on the scene. The blood. The violence. The raw anger. I knew that kind of rage. I had seen it in Darius. I had felt it in every scar on my body.

But then she decided she had enough of the fight. As the man rushed towards her, blood dripping down his lips and his eyes full of rage, Claire stood there silently. Just as his fist flew towards her face, she caught his hand before twisting it at an unnatural angle, making him cry out with pain. Soon there was a snapping sound, and he howled pathetically, cradling his broken hand to his chest. But Claire was not done with him yet. He fell on the ground like a sack of potatoes, crying like a baby. She watched him with a cold rage burning in her eyes, remembering his taunts about killing her father and promising to send her to meet him.

The sky lights up with reds and golds and silvers, the new year announcing itself while my ex-husband tries to choke the life out of me. And with the first burst of light, something ignites inside me. Heat floods through my veins. Liquid fire spreading through my blood, burning away the drugs, burning away the weakness, burning away everything except this white-hot rage that I’ve been swallowing for eight fucking years. My hands move on their own. I watch, almost from outside myself, as claws extend from my fingertips. Long. Sharp. Impossible. Claws. I have claws. Omegas don’t have claws like this. Omegas can’t do what I’m about to do. But I don’t question it, don’t hesitate, don’t think.

"Claws?!" "Can we talk calmly?" Rage flexed his right hand, deflecting the strike. Dior was taken aback by the sight of his claws on his hands. "Who are you? No, what exactly are you?" Dior ignored Rage's inquiry and posed her own. Her sword was still pointed towards Rage's head. "Hmm, I think I'm the intruder you were looking for. You can conceive of me as a human, despite the fact that I have claws on my hand."

The Bloodletter hit me at a full run from the right, claws extended, going for my throat. I had nothing elegant left. My smoke form was depleted. My ribs made anything involving rotation a negotiation. My magic reserves were somewhere below the line I'd drawn as functional minimum. What I had was claws. And stubbornness. And twenty-six days of rage I hadn't had a clean outlet for. We hit the ground together. I let us—controlled it rather than fought it, used the momentum instead of absorbing it, came up on top with a knee in its chest and my claws at its throat and my entire weight keeping it from rolling.

Claws against claws. Roar against shriek. Fury against hunger. The ledge rocked violently under the weight of their struggle. Kiera pressed her palms to the stone, heart slamming so hard it felt like a bruise inside her ribs. Her vision blurred. The edges of the world wavered. She was losing time—slipping into terror— Stay awake. Stay awake. Stay— Ronan roared in pain. Her eyes snapped up. The creature had raked claws down his shoulder, tearing skin. Blood seeped through his shirt in a dark rush.

Hit the rogue from the side with enough force to crack ribs. We went down in a tangle of claws and fury.

He removed his dangerous sharp fingers(claws) and his eyes darkened. "Time to end you", He charged at me and I removed my claws also and my eyes turned red. He struck me at the side of my chest with his claw and I got hold of his hand with one hand to avoid him dipping further and He also wasn't able to remove his hand because of my strength, before he could think of doing anything else. I aimed at his chest and my claw went deep into it and I twisted it and gave him a super kick that sent him crashing into a moving vehicle. I dashed toward him and I let my anger get the best of me. I took him up in one hand and he used his claws to make wonders on my hand but I maintained my balance and str

She struggled as if she wanted to break free. His face became blank. His eyes are cold, you can't see any emotion. His hands are also clenched as if he wants to kick. When he looked at the woman, she was stunned. The anger he felt returned. "Don't torture her too much. The Sandejas will surely find her too. They will take care of her." The two sat on the couch after Dawell said that.