Crow Fursuit Novels & Stories

Not us, anyway. Frost launches himself at the nearest shadow where it spreads like an oil spill on the scratched wooden floor. He leaps onto it, claws digging, teeth snapping. He’s like a starved wolf unleashed—biting, scratching, growling, snarling, taking out his anger on the shadow with devastating consequences. He tears right through the black shape, leaving gouges in the floor. The creature falls into shreds and evaporates, although Frost doesn’t wait around to see it disappear before he chooses his next victim.

His eyes were wide and blazing with rage. Snarling back viciously, he struggled against whoever had a hold on him. It was an opportunity to dig my claws into his shoulders again. He was off me before I attempted another shove. That was when the strange wolf came into my line of teary vision. Large. His fur was the color of burgundy. So dark it could be mistaken for brown. They were either glossy or the light made them seem so. He drove thick claws into Curtis as he groaned, 'Dishonorable filth!'

But this time, instead of heading for battle, it was setting out for the journey home. Outside the car windows, the thousands of werewolf students knelt on one knee, watching the convoy depart. "Farewell, Your Royal Highness!" they shouted in unison, their voices echoing to the skies and lingering long in the air. I leaned against Gerard's shoulder and closed my eyes. The nightmare had finally ended, and my era had only just begun.

Keondra stepped back in a low whine. She stood before the mirror, her eyes fixed on the reflection that stared back. The glassy surface revealed a creature that was both familiar and yet, utterly alien. The fur was matted with blood, her eyes glowed with an unnatural light, a piercing red that seemed to burn with an inner fire. Red saliva dripped from the corners of her mouth, forming a sticky thread that clung to the furry chin. Her gaze wandered down her body, taking in the thick, muscular limbs, the razor-sharp claws that gleamed like polished bone.

Outside, another deep animal sound echoes through the trees. I freeze. Every hair on my arms rises, that was not human. Nothing about this is human. My chest tightens painfully as reality starts trying to rearrange itself inside my brain. All the weirdness from the last few days crashes together at once like puzzle pieces finally snapping into place. The growling, the scent thing, the biting kids, the teeth, the fucking ears. “Oh my God,” I whisper hoarsely. “They’re actual furries.” I grab my boots off the floor and spin toward the door, fully prepared to flee this woodland psychosexual nightmare barefoot if necessary.

Time had run out. I held out my hand. “We’d love for you to come with us. We’re here to end her reign, but we have to go.” He nodded and stood to his full height. He was as tall as Bodey, which startled me. “Yes, she must be stopped.” The last word rasped from his throat, the sound torn between wolf and human as fur sprouted from his body. Dark fur coated him in seconds, and then he was on four legs. He threw his head back and bellowed a loud wolf cry. A howl didn’t even come close to describing it. Then he took off out the door.

They both Chorused and ran out of the room as fast as their gowns would carry them. Jessica was met with a terrifying sight out in the hall. The crowd that was sitting earlier was now scattered and running around frantically looking for means of escape. Jessica's gaze focused on the source of the commotion and her heart sank when she saw a huge black wolf with fur as dark as night and eyes as red as coal struggling against the bodies of almost all the men in the room.

I rescued humans in the neutral zone and gathered scattered lone wolves under our banner. That was how I expanded the pack, helping them unify The Cursed Wildlands and reclaim the throne. But now, I was no longer on their side. A faint smile curved my lips. This time, I wanted to see how exactly Camilla planned to conquer the continent with the three useless wolves she had raised. A few days later, at the pack gathering, I saw Camilla again. To avoid unnecessary trouble, I still concealed my true appearance, covering my face with mud and ash, and stuffing padding into my clothes to hide my figure.

Real clothes for snow. I stared at them. I had never worn pants like that. In Wolf Creek girls wear dresses to ceremony, second hand dresses. “Put on,” she ordered, not unkind, but firm. “We will look at your mark after.” I turned my back and pulled off my frozen tank top and shorts. My skin underneath was not normal skin anymore. It glowed faintly, like snow under moon. My white claws had retracted a little but not all the way, so I had to be careful pulling the fur pants on or I tore them. The shirt was huge and smelled like smoke and someone else, but warm.

He muffled my cries with his mouth again and when he brought his lips to my ear it was to whisper ''Keep screaming like that and you'll bring the entire frat party into this room to find out what's going on and for some reason, I don't want you to be discovered half dressed. I started to apologise but it only ended in a moan as he bit the tip of my ear and then kissed it. My chest was still bare so that when he shifted slightly, I could feel the cold breeze against the warm skin that had been tortured by his lips, teeth and tongue. My whole body was on fire, I was feeling things I had never felt before. He trailed kisses back up again to find my lips plunching the tip of his tongue into my m