Fangs Of Fortune Fanfiction Novels & Stories

weak humans"he left for the bedroom and took a shower ,he changed to his clothes.he dipped his hand into his pocket and brought out a cheque book, he scribbled down some figures and kept the cheque on the table. He stared at the girl lying on the bed,her hair was sprawled all over.she was a beautiful woman but to him"women were all the same"her long neck was visible and it was enchanting.he licked his lips.his eye color changed to red and his fangs appeared.he came closer to her and removed the hair sprawled around her neck.he inhaled her scent.the scent of her blood was refreshing,he was damn thirsty.he was about to stick his fangs into her neck when he remembered something.

Had he noticed? I rushed forward quickly, keeping my head down, my hair flowing to cover the small crimson on my cheeks. I quickly set up the box on the dining table and opened it, hoping he wouldn’t notice how red my face had become. He definitely noticed. “Were you stealing glances at me, my love?” I said nothing. His smile deepened. “You know I’m all yours. You only need to ask, and I’m all yours to watch, touch, or tast—”

When her eyes meet mine, I try to speak. No sound comes out. She watches me struggle for a moment before smiling. Not kindly. Not cruelly either. It is the smile of someone finally seeing a truth they have known for a very long time. I wake with a gasp. Heat rushes through my body. My hands press hard against the sheets and I realize immediately— They are burning. Not the usual hidden warmth I’ve learned to control. Real fire. I jerk upright. My palms are untouched. The sheets are not. Two blackened handprints stain the fabric beneath me, dark and perfect, every curve of my fingers burned clearly into the cloth.

She mindlessly nodded, her actions though faltering for a moment as she finally took notice of that term of endearment at the end of his sentence. Wait. He really was trying to- She quickly grabbed that folded napkin from the side of her plate, angrily passing it over her mouth. Oh, she was definitely about to... That mild sting on the middle of her lower lip was the first thing she had felt. Followed by that air forcefully leaving her lungs. Her blood freezing in her veins. Her heart stopping. They were...red...a dark shade of burgundy red...his eyes...they were bloody red. Literally. And there were two sharp and pearly-white fangs protruding from between his lips. Fangs. Long and frighteni

Celine lit the light so that she could discover his sermons, she returned to him watching him suffer without realizing the reason, drawing her eyes His eminent fiancé was fully prepared with his mouth, and she did not understand herself except as she passed her forefinger over his serrated fang, led by her impudent curiosity, and soon touched until a drop of blood flowed from the tip of her forefinger to his fang, causing Kayden to rise up, who moved away from the bed, calling her in a tone like a roar:

Tell me you want me, too. Shaking her head, her eyes misted. He growled at her stubbornness. Then he nuzzled his cheek against hers, enjoying the delicate ivory fragrance she'd washed with, hoping she’d succumb to his advances. He ran his finger over her firm nipple. “I won't let Ragnar have you. We’ll return to the pack and then—” “No. He’ll kill you. I don’t want you for a mate. Don't you understand?” She tried to pull away from him, her voice heated with anger. “I don’t want you.”

The emotions in his eyes were hard to distinguish. but I didn't look further for answers, those beautiful hazel eyes, once I looked lovingly had lost it's beauty. He slowly got out of their bed, the girl whined for him to stay for little more. He came closer My heart sank. Mind blank as a canvas, on which was engraved the words I heard then: “I,Ethan Brown, the future alpha of the pack, reject you, Thalia carnell as my mate and Luna of this pack.”

"So he tested me like I was a product." "He confirmed what he already knew," Graves corrected calmly. "And as a result, you were written into his estate plan. Retroactively and irrevocably." Anya leaned back in her chair, the white walls around her suddenly too close. "He could've called," she said. "Written. Anything." Graves didn't answer. "He could've said something. Anything." Still nothing. "And now I'm supposed to believe this is his idea of a gift? A fortune I didn't ask for, tied in knots, handed to me by a stranger?"

Something flickered in his eyes—surprise, then something sharper. The girl who once knelt at his feet had bared her fangs. His jaw eased, as if amused. With a low hum, he shoved the wolf beside me aside and dropped into the seat at my side. Minutes later, his leg brushed mine. Again. Again. Each time I pulled away, his mouth curved darker, and he leaned closer. Finally, I had enough. I rose, the air in the lounge turning tense as I crossed to an empty seat in the corner.

Maybe that was why she wasn’t blessed with something as simple as soft lips. Worry and anger twisted inside me as minutes stretched on. I fought to pull myself back into the man I was supposed to be. Until the door swung open. I didn’t look up. I assumed it was a staff member or some random guest. Then I smelled vanilla. My head snapped up. Fiona. She stood in the doorway, hair messy from dancing, legs trembling beneath her. She wasn’t even steady. Her eyes sparkled beneath her mask—dazed, squinting, seductive.