Fury Of The Small Novels & Stories

“Oh, put some ice on that ego and dick of yours! You said it; I am you; you are me. So, she likes US!” I sulked; I was freaking sulking as a damned child as I kicked yet another stone. I sent it flying over the uneven ground right outside the village center. I’d even let my pride aside, desperate like a little puppy, when I saw the marks on her skin. And she fucking asks me to shut up and bring Fury back? So much for caring for her health and well-being! My next victim was a tiny black stone; it flew like a falling star and disappeared into the thick grass. Fury rolled his eyes, but he didn’t fool me! I still felt that pleased grin plastered on his god damned Fury face!

"I am just looking out for you." "Then stop! I can look out for myself, Nolan. I am grown. I am capable. Stop looking at me as if I am a damsel that needs saving all the time. It is wearing fucking thin." I growled back and flung myself off of the couch. Fury entered his eyes then. They glowed their beautiful blue. His wolf was so close I could almost touch him. That's where all our anger came from. From our wolves who wanted something whilst everyone else denied it.

“Not working?” Fury erupted in his eyes at my words. “What have you done you little bitch?” he spat, venomously. His chest heaved with the rage that coursed through him. He slammed the syringe onto the altar, the glass vial shattering and spilling my blood across the jagged surface. I flinched at the sound, my heart pounding against my ribs. Iza’s face twisted into a snarl, his fury radiating off him in waves. “If I can’t use you,” he hissed, stepping toward me, “then you’ll become my weapon instead.”

“You sure those knots are tight enough? I’m too pretty for cat claws.” Fury makes my blood boil. I see what he’s doing—insulting me by calling me a cat, but playing it off like it’s a game. I snarl and tug against my restraints, catching his strange purple gaze. “I’m more wolf than you could ever dream to be, you asshole.”

The air crackled, heavy with unsaid accusations and the dangerous, unresolved chemistry that had just combusted between us. The fury arrived not in words, but in a physical transformation. A tremor ran through him, starting deep in his core and radiating outwards. His jaw clenched so tight the muscle jumped like a trapped creature. His nostrils flared, drawing in sharp, ragged breaths. The storm in his eyes darkened, swirling with a terrifying intensity, not just anger, but a wounded, possessive fury mixed with a dawning, incredulous awareness of his own vulnerability. He took a half-step forward, a low, guttural sound escaping his throat, not a word, but pure, animal frustration.

Gold and blue, black and silver, they tumbled through the air, smashing against each other in blinding speed. Above, Angelica pinned Fury against the wall, a hand at her throat. “You’re just a messenger,” Angelica spat bitterly. “You don’t get to play god.” Fury grinned, even as her feet dangled inches above the ground. “Like I said, I quit,” she grinned, and then Angelica surged gold power down her throat. Fury let out a scream that I felt in my soul before going silent. Angelica discarded her to the floor and landed gracefully next to the still body. Then her eyes snapped to me.

Fury was a vicious curse. It could wake the sleeping demons inside you. Making you burn in fire and just like that you feel like scorching everything to ashes itself. A treacherous voice that leads you to demise. Sheer silence surrounded them as her heavy breathing was the only noise. He barely even blinked before the string of sanity snapped; what just happened registered inside his mind. Her eyes widened when a calloused hand wrapped around her delicate throat and her back was slammed into the wall knocking the breath out of her.

she stammers. She doesn't understand. She doesn't know why I am being like this and neither do I. She doesn't see the predator that's unleashed, on the surface, I am just a man really freaking out because she smells like someone else. Fury detonates inside me, primal and all-consuming, and I'm no longer just a beast crouched on the floor, I am the storm. Chairs splinter, the table shudders, plates crash to the floor in a symphony of destruction as I surge to my feet. My voice rips out of me, a guttural growl that shakes the walls.

FURY. It surged through her veins like wildfire racing over parched ground, hot enough to burn away every trembling thought. Her breath hitched, her vision narrowed, and the world became nothing but him. Cian’s sneer, his hand digging into her waist, the cold certainty in his eyes that she would break.

It was always yours. The duel stretched long, brutal. Her opponent fought like a wolf with nothing to lose—snapping, tearing, dragging her down again and again. Her breath came ragged. Her body screamed and then, something broke. The Fury roared to life. It burned through her muscles, through her lungs, through her very bones. Fire and shadow spilling from her like wings unfurled, her eyes lit with that primal blaze of power no council decree could deny. She struck. A blur of claws, of teeth, of force that wasn’t just hers but something older, deeper, carried in her bloodline. The courtyard lit with the violence of it, wolves stumbling back, shielding their eyes from the storm and when it cl