Feral Behavior Novels & Stories

Especially if it were the way Kay did—by mixing his saliva into Ivanna's bloodstream—that would be toxic to her. Of course, I panicked when I learned about the weirdness happening to Ivanna. It was possible that the girl would eventually turn out like me, but what if she became another horrible creature? In the vampire world, there are vampires and feral. A feral is a bloodsucking creature different from a vampire in that it resembles a human when alive, while a feral is another wild creature that destroys the order of life. The presence of ordinary vampires is already destroying the order; imagine if these feral are increasing.

“What do you mean they lose human control? I’ve seen ferals, but they always know who they’re facing, enemy or friend… they know.” A chuckle escaped Zayan’s throat, almost mocking. “What’s with that laugh?” “As I said, they are triggered by external factors. Since they rarely shift, the forced restraint of their wolf form makes it easier for them to succumb to those triggers. Once they become feral, they can never revert back—it’s as if they are locked in that state. Ending their suffering is the only way.” Marcus narrowed his eyes. “How do you know this much about ferals?” Zayan fell silent at the question. Without answering, he shut the van door and moved to the driver’s seat.

"Not a single one. There is no written record anywhere of shifters suddenly and inexplicably going feral. It simply does not appear in the historical record. Going feral is extraordinarily rare, Charles, and I don't think most people watching tonight have any real sense of how rare. Film and television have turned the feral shifter into a reliable source of drama, but the reality is completely different. Of the entire global shifter population, only half a percent begin showing any signs of the process each year. The overwhelming majority of those cases are connected to isolation from their packs, the breakdown of family structure, mental health struggles, or substance abuse. Of that half pe

Beverly would often spend hours meditating, honing her mental discipline to keep her inner wolf in check. As the days turned into weeks, Beverly's transformation was evident. She moved with the fluidity of a seasoned predator, her senses attuned to the subtlest shifts in the environment. Her hearing could pick up the faintest rustle of leaves, her sense of smell could discern emotions in the scent of others, and her night vision was as sharp as the moon itself.

The heavy branches of the lower canopy bent and whipped with the devastating force of iron bars, striking the Unsilvered with a rhythmic, bone-crushing percussion that eventually drowned out the screams and snarls of the battle. ​The Ferals, who had lived their entire lives in these woods as the undisputed apex predators, were suddenly being hunted by the very environment they called home. A wave of primal, supernatural panic broke out in their ranks, a terror that bypassed their training and hit their ancestral instincts. The raw, brute strength they had relied upon for eons was useless against a forest that refused to let them stand. Every time a wolf tried to lunge or retreat, the ground

I didn't want to let him go but I forced myself to, reminding my all too happy wolf that no one could be trusted. I casted a wary eye on Lucas across the room. He still hadn't gotten any clothes on and I had to keep mentally slapping myself to keep from drooling at the sheer male power he held. I decided that my wolf must be influencing my thoughts. "I still don't understand why you think we can't trust him", she grumbled. "Because we can't", I replied nonchalantly. "But why..." "Look, do you want us to get out of here alive or do you want to go back to being unconscious or worse?", I snapped. "Isn't being feral good enough for you? Do you want to get us killed?"

I say, more worried about my daughter than myself. “He could. You’re right. But feral wolves tend to run solely on instinct. They have no humanity, no sense of right and wrong. They don’t care. They want. They take. No matter who it hurts or what it costs them. Mate bonds are more instinctual than pup bonds for feral wolves. He might not even recognize Alexandra and Cameron as his. But even with your broken bond, he could still recognize you as his.” “What did you see?” I whisper.

“Now that we have each other, everything else can only fall into place. I feel like I can take on the world now that you’re not running from me.” “I hope you’re right.” “Caleb’s a fair alpha. There’s no need for him to run.” “What about the girl? What will we do with her?” “It’s not an easy situation. We shouldn’t even be dealing with this.” “She wouldn’t go with Joe.” “Well, we can’t keep a bear as a pet. She’d have to be caged for everyone’s safety. Just like a feral pup, there’s a certain point they’re unable to tame. A time they’re feral for life.”

It was infuriating and grounding all at once. “I know,” she said again, softer this time. My wolf snarled low in my chest, pacing right alongside me. He’d been restless since the first twelve hours passed. At twenty-four, he’d been on edge. By thirty-six, he’d been downright feral. Now? Now he was scraping against my ribs like he wanted out, wanted blood, wanted movement. Waiting felt wrong. Waiting felt like letting something bad happen. “What if he’s hurt?” I said, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “What if Alessandro caught him the moment he crossed his pack border? What if…”