Cowboy Hat Rules Novels & Stories

“Right there.” “You mean my regular speaking voice, sweetheart?” I shot him a look. He knew exactly what he was doing. “Rule number three: no more nicknames.” That raised both hands in surrender. “Anything else?” “No walking around the house half naked or completely naked.” “I’m afraid that rule won’t work. Werewolves run naturally too hot, so keeping a shirt on all day in my own home is practically a torture method.” “Fine,” I huffed. “The shirt can come off, occasionally, but the pants stay on at all times.”

He’d play the role of a bodyguard, keep me alive, and eventually bring me back safely to the pack. He lays down his rules as the bike slows down. “Rule one: You stay alive. Don’t do anything stupid. Rule two: You don’t wander off alone unless I say it’s safe. Rule three: Paxon and Ragriz are still hardcore rivals, and since you chose Paxon, congratulations—you’re officially a rival now too...” This confirms my suspicion that the peace treaty’s a facade to the underlined hatred. “...Rule four: Avoid paparazzi. Don’t be the reason your face ends up in some shitty tabloid.”

I took a deep breath and walked to the makeshift stable. There were so many things happening at once that I didn't know what to think. There were still the rules. It was strictly forbidden to use your wolf forms. The hunt would be done in human form: tracking, agility, and light weapons. If anyone broke that rule... They would be disqualified. And, depending on the severity, severely punished. I quickened my pace toward the horses. The strong smell of hay and mud invaded my nostrils. I found the area where the animals were prepared for us, the horses of the Supreme Alpha's team.

Enjoy the pillow princess buddy, I got a real tiger. Waterman takes a step back from both of us. Yeah, get good and jealous buddy, make you more stupid. “The rules are simple. The first one to tap out, or get knocked out, loses. The stakes are simple. The winner decides the terms of the peace between your packs,” Douglas tells us. “You may fight only in human form for the first ten minutes. Any shifting before the timer, and you will be disqualified.” Herbert and I nod to each other. I feel a rush of calm and realize it’s Sabrina. I look over at her and she nods. If she believes in me, I can’t fail.

Duke had an incredulous look on his face. “Before we begin, I will state some rules. This should be a healthy competition. A thousand dollars, of course, for the winner, courtesy of our Alpha. So, no headbutting, gouging of eyes, no spitting or biting your opponents, hair pulling, or fish hooking. It is prohibited to strike your opponent on the spine, back of the head, or throat. And, of course, no groin attacks. When you surrender, raise a hand or tap the ground.” They nodded. Tor had a grin on his face.

His arms were covered in tattoos, and he had broad shoulders, but more than anything, he exuded strength. I knew who he was right away. He is an Alpha wolf who is fair and decent, and I have already met him during a pack visit. "Here are the rules:" Alpha Colt declares. The pack members began reading the rules of the stadium walls as a unit. Some were so familiar with the rules that they were not even looking at them. "One: Keep the fight clean!" I shivered at the intensity of their voices booming around me like one man. "Two: No poison!"

“It’s on the list. The most important rule. There’s a punishment for breaking the rules.” I stared down at the list, my mouth dropping open. CHRISSY’S RULES. Stay away From Ryder Dane. He belongs to CHRISSY WELLS. Girls are not allowed to wear anything from the designer, Kellabeigh Moon, except for Chrissy. Girls must wear orange at parties, except for Chrissy, who can wear her favorite color, baby pink. (Orange is so not flattering on anyone.) No girl (except for Chrissy, Harley, and Kimmy) is allowed to wear their hair down unless it’s shorter than shoulder length.

"Sounds fair." "There are rules you need to understand before you sign. First, what you see and hear in this bar stays in this bar. You don't talk to cops, reporters, or anyone else about our business. Second, you don't steal from us. Not money, not booze, not information. Third, you treat club members with respect even if they're being assholes. They're our family and family gets special consideration." "And if I break these rules?" "Then you'll find out why people don't cross the Steel Vultures twice." Cain's voice was matter of fact, like he was discussing the weather instead of threatening me. "We take care of our own but we also handle problems permanently when they arise."

Amara felt concerned at his pained expression, but she forced herself to press on. There are rules and regulations you both must follow, she said. Leaning forward slightly, Darius tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. What are these rules? Rule number one: no fighting. The one who initiates a fight will lose twenty points, she stated firmly, her gaze flicking between the two men. Rule number two: you are not allowed to announce me as your woman until the contest is over. If you win, then you can make it public. Darius’s lips twitched as though he wanted to challenge the rule, but he stayed silent.

People stopped and stared, even the meditating Asian guys. I slipped off my top, throwing it away from me. "OK rules. We don't stop until someone taps out or loses consciousness," I stated, using my fingers to count the points as I listed them. "All hits are allowed. No outside help. No foreign weapons. No touching my hair because God knows I'll kill you for it and..." "Winner gets to decide what dress you're wearing to the mafia convention," Luca added and my shoulders dropped a bit. "Wait... what?" I asked my brows frowning. I hadn't even thought of that.