Deathclaw Novels & Stories

Atlas stepped forward slowly, savoring the fear, before lunging to rip its head clean off. Kael’s dance was one of death. He slipped through enemy ranks, a blur of motion. His claws carved symbols of agony across flesh, his fangs leaving trails of ruin. He leapt onto the back of a rogue, severing its spine with a clean bite before launching himself forward to tackle another to the ground. He pinned it, snarling, before tearing its stomach open and dragging his claws upward until the beast split apart. He left trails of bodies in his wake, none surviving long enough to land a single blow.

I took out my Karambit and turned it over in my hand. “This is a Karambit, Mike, it’s double bladed. Beautiful, isn’t it?” I showed him the knife and moved in behind him. “You might want to move your feet, Carl. Arterial spray travels quite a distance,” I said as I pulled Mike’s head back by his hair. Carl looked at me and then at his feet. He moved his feet to the couch and continued reading the paper. “You chose the wrong house, Mike, and you hurt my wife. You need to die for that,” I whispered in his ear and he tried to scream again. I sliced his neck open with the Karambit and let his head fall forward onto his chest.

His blood floods my mouth, as he thrashes beneath me. He rakes claws down my belly, pain searing, but I clamp harder, crushing down. I’m fueled by every wound, every loss, every night spent running. For Arica. For Running River. For every life he ever took. Kaelen bucks one last time, then shudders, going still. His body slumps heavy against the stone, his throat torn wide open. I stand over him. Blood drips from my jaws, and my chest heaves. My legs tremble, but I lift my head high. I have done it. Kaelen is dead.

Harlan's POV Declan's update came in the middle of the night, a single text that had me awake and dressed before I'd even fully processed the words. Vale's people spotted near Nightprowlers territory. Not certain yet. Moving to confirm. I read it twice before the words actually landed, the easy warmth of the dress shopping photo Trixie had sent me hours earlier still glowing on my phone screen right above Declan's message, two entirely different versions of the same summer sitting one on top of the other.

“Are you certain?” "I wish I wasn't." My gaze never left Elana's face. Her breathing skipped, each breath shallower than the one before it. “Deadclaw was created generations ago.” Greyman said heavily. “It was never intended for ordinary wolves.” "What do you mean?" I asked him, holding her tight against me as I searched her eyes. “It was designed to kill those whose wolf genes remained dormant. Those the old world considered incomplete.” My jaw clenched. "Wolfless." Greyman sighed deeply before continuing. “The poison attacks slowly at first. It paralyzes the system, then enters the bloodstream and begins destroying every organ it reaches. Once it spreads completely, the victim begins cough

The first challenger stepped into the ring, a massive wolf with silver fur and eyes like ice. Draven’s jaw clenched. “Silverclaw’s heir.” I glanced at him. “Can you beat him?” He looked down at me, gold eyes burning. “Watch.” He shifted in one smooth motion, fire and smoke consuming him until the dragon-wolf hybrid stood where the man had been. Black scales shimmered across his flanks, and wings unfurled like blades of flame. The crowd fell silent. The Silverclaw heir lunged first, but he never stood a chance. Draven met him midair, claws striking, fire roaring. It was over in seconds, the heir flung across the pit, unconscious before he hit the ground.

This was not hunger; it was gravity. He shifted closer, our bodies aligning fully. My fingers trembled as I unfastened the heavy clasp of his cloak. As the wool slid from his shoulders and pooled like a shadow on the floor, he was revealed, entirely naked beneath it. Dark, intricate tattoos snaked across the expanse of his chest and down the corded muscles of his arms, the ink appearing like living shadows against his feverish skin.

This group of vampires, who only knew how to take from me and use me for their own ends, were not worthy of being my clan. And that unworthy mate, I had already given up on him completely. He would get what was coming to him. --- Three Months Later — Silver Moon Clan Territory I stood on the balcony of my new castle, looking out over the moonlit city, feeling at peace. My phone rang. It was Chloe. “Lydia, did you see the news?” her voice was buzzing with excitement. “Your ex’s clan has completely collapsed!” “I saw,” I said lightly. The internal vampire communiqués were very detailed:

"Remember what they took from us, daughter. Remember why we are here." "I remember everything. Every single detail." "Good. The Rogue King expects results. Do not disappoint me." The crystal went dark, leaving me alone in the silence. I moved to the window and stared out at the pack lands that were once my home. Somewhere out there, Marcus's real killer was sleeping peacefully, thinking their secrets were safe. They were wrong. By the time I was finished, this entire pack would be ash and memory. Starting with their precious Alpha.

"One path is to become the Alpha Female, the strongest force of destruction. The other is to become a Moon Blessed, the one who carries on the bloodline. Between you sisters, who will rule through slaughter, and who will rule through reproduction?" Beneath the Moonfall Sanctum lay a desolate continent, ravaged by curses. The land was gray and barren, not a single blade of grass in sight. In the distance, shattered packs barely clung to existence. The werewolves were gaunt, skeletal. This was the world we were about to descend into. Memories from my past life surged forward like a tidal wave. Camilla hadn’t hesitated for even a second. She chose Alpha Female. Back then, she glanced sideways a