Deathclaw Novels & Stories

“You have no place here. You’re a criminal. You’ve hurt the Alpha, and you have the audacity to show your face here after escaping arrest?” I stiffened, but Declan’s voice rang out, “That’s enough. There is clearly a misunderstanding here.” The room fell silent at his words. Even the Elders, who usually exuded such confidence, seemed taken aback by his authority. “I was attacked,” Declan continued, his gaze resting on them, “but not by Raven.” He let the words settle in the air before continuing. “There’s a skin crawler in the palace.” A ripple of shock passed through the room. Skin crawlers were rare, terrifying creatures, known for their ability to take on the form of anyone they desired,

I curled up in a corner, praying for some warmth. This place used to store frozen seafood. Now, it was just empty shelves and icy air. I stacked the shelves around me, a futile attempt to block the cold. It was useless. When I realized I was dead, a wave of despair washed over me. Seeing my frost-covered body, eyes wide with terror, and bloody nails, I felt a bone-chilling shock. Just as I was about to take a closer look, a force pulled me away, and I found myself standing next to Ean.

Also, I was curious to see how Philip and Brenda would react when they found out the person they had skinned and cut up to pieces was me. Brenda picked up on something more to Layla's words. She grabbed her wrists. "Layla, what are you talking about?" There was not a hint of regret on Layla's face. "That useless wench won't come back anymore. She's been buried in that sculpture since the beginning." "You're saying… That person was Hazel?" Brenda subconsciously took a few steps backward. On the other hand, Philip covered his mouth and stood frozen to the spot. He must have recalled that the skeleton was missing the bones of three fingers. He had spent a lot of time creating the missing parts

I might have been ruthless or cruel, but only to those who would dare invoke my wrath in such a way. As Silverclaw, one of my alterations gave us the ability to partially shift our wolf form, taking on whatever aspects of our wolves we may need. I elongated my claws and slowly sliced through the skin of the first victim, then I slipped my claw under the skin and began to rip it off.

He answered with a Howl that literally cracked the ice on the cliffs above. He descended into the center of the fray like a God of Slaughter. His violet-black fur was a blur of motion, his prehistoric iron jaws snapping through the Council’s augmented collars as if they were made of dry parchment. He wasn't just fighting; he was De-Programming the Enemy. Every Feral-Sin he crushed was a message sent back to the West: The North is no longer a Resource. The North is a Grave.

Drago led her to a covered deck, where the whole family was sitting, ready for breakfast. All around her were the usual suspects, Grigo, Marcu, and the mercenaries from the dungeon below the compound, who all nodded to her in respect. Madchen smiled at them, they never uttered a judgemental word against her when she enacted her frenzied revenge on Jason, they just stood back and let her have her moment.

Hey guys! Welcome to my book "Dark Deception"! I hope you love my book and continue to engage with it. I appreciate you guys so so much and I can't wait to connect with you all. Lily Collins as Olivia Adams Ken Kirby as Sam Oscar Lena Heady as Erica Wayne Douglas Booth as Jack Williams Shay Mitchell as Nikita Dixion Kerri Medders as Jessica Shaw Kat Graham as Ruby Hills Til Schweiger as Michael Wayne Alex Landi as Dr.Liam

Then she heard and deep roar and scream, assuming it was the creature After a moment, she opened her eyes again, not feeling the impact of the creatures foot. She looked up and saw the black draekon with its jaws around the monsters neck, pinning it to the ground with his claws. The monster was flailing, screeching out into the treetops. But the draekon kept it pinned, digging its claws into the creatures chest. The draekon tensed, and closed its jaw tighter and ripped the throat out of the creature, silencing its screams and ending it's flailing.

To put it mildly. “The Claws run a bit of a…. an underground competition, shall we say, where we pitch two men — fine athletes — against each other for sport. Then, our guests are free to place wagers on the fighters.” “Spit shine a turd, it’s still shit,” Declan said with a grin, which Patrick immediately mirrored.

He used his claws to scratch the opponent's chest. Ezra repeatedly scratched, disorienting the opponent, and then threw himself on top of him. Ezra won with sharp, clawed front paws resting on his opponent's black fur. "We're even." The leader of the assassin group stood up, shook his black fur gently to brush away the dust on his body, and spoke. "Winning is winning." Ezra knew that the opponent had yielded to him, so he did not want to admit that he had won, but he still did not understand what the opponent meant.