Fury Peter Novels & Stories

Fury was visible in his eyes. I just snorted coldly and turned to leave. … Once I was seated in Peter's car, I let go of his hand. Guilt crept into my voice. "Sorry for using you just now to get back at Charles." Peter shook his head. His eyes were deep and unreadable. "If it's for you, I'm happy to be of service." A lump rose in my throat as memories from three years ago flooded back. When Charles became Broxia's richest man, the first thing he did after rising to the top was make Peter's life hell.

"She does not know how to hunt any other way. She sees you as a threat to our pack's honor. But do not mistake my respect for mercy. Today, I will win. I will use the secrets of the monk. And I will take the title back to the North. I will not let a Southern girl defeat me twice." "You did not lose yesterday." I reminded him. "It was a tie." "In my heart, it was a loss." Fenris said. "A master should not be matched by a student. Today, there will be no ties." "We will see." I said. Fenris nodded. He left the room. I looked at my team. I reached down and picked up the knife Silas had saved. The blade was cold. The steel was heavy. It felt balanced in my hand. It was a weapon, not a tool.

The moment Peter’s chair hit the floor, the figure dropped the camera into a heavy waterproof pack, turned cleanly on their heel, and vanished into the dark, narrow mouth of the alleyway between the dry cleaners and the bank, their black jacket completely swallowed by the shadows of the storm. "Stay behind the desk!" Peter commanded, turning his head to look at me for a fraction of a second. His ocean-blue eyes weren't cold or clinical anymore—they were burning with a lethal, absolute fury that made him look completely unhuman. "Thomas! Secure the asset immediately!" Before I could utter a single word, before I could scream for him to stop or tell him not to run into the dark, Peter turned a

Peter said. "Natural cause you say?!" Tim retorted, finally finding a scapegoat he could release his anger on. "That man is a fucking Lycan! They are built like a fucking brick wall! How do you expect him to die of natural causes?" Tim asked angrily. He was already moving to Peter with aggression. He just wanted to fight. He had a lot of pent-up anger burning inside of him. I couldn't blame him. I also felt the same way. I was angry and I needed to let it all out but this was not the way.

Why did he lie about Peter being upset and not joining in on the celebration? As Peter stirred and regained consciousness, his eyes fluttering open, I held my breath, waiting for him to speak. His gaze met mine, a mix of relief and surprise flickering across his face. "Charia?" he murmured, his voice hoarse. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I wrapped my arms around him, unable to find the words to express my shock and concern. "Peter, what happened? Why would Ryder...?" He interrupted me with a weak, pained smile. "It's not Ryder's doing," he rasped, his voice filled with exhaustion. "It was someone else, someone, who wanted to make it look like Ryder was behind this."

“There is no room for insubordinate wolves in my pack!” Dedrick whimpered under her weight, his pride crumbling to ash as her fury burned through the bond. She stamped her paw harder against his chest, the sound sharp and final. Her head whipped around to Toddry, who was already belly-down in the dirt, trembling. His tail was tucked so far beneath him it brushed his muzzle. Talia’s eyes glowed faintly in the dim light—livid streaks of violet catching on the dawn. “Both of you,” she hissed, her voice rough with authority, “return to the pack. Now.”

Flashback ends. Present: “This is one of your worst mistakes, Peter,” Rafael snarled, eyes ablaze with fury, his body radiating a power that even the shadows seemed to shrink from. Before Peter could react, Rafael conjured a fireball in his palm, hurling it toward him. The flames danced with lethal precision, scorching the air as they hit Peter squarely, sending him sprawling backward.

Justin hurries to his fuming friend, and it's as if they don't even realize we are here. "Calm down?" my mate growls and his eyes shine a bright red. "Just shut up, and fight me. Attack at once," his voice commands, and my brothers, with the other guy, share concerned glances. "It's happening," Dad mumbles and gets up too. "Zane..." Derek's words are cut short when my mate attacks instead. Three consecutive blows, and everyone drops to the floor, unmoving. What is happening to him? The weird strength. Red eyes.

If he was pissed, then so was I. “Submit, Emma, ​​and stop this stupidity!” “NEVER! I will never submit to any man!” “SUBMIT, I SAID, FUCK!” Peter roared with all the anger and frustration he felt at that moment. I felt him throw his alpha command at me, which is beastly for any wolf or Lycan. But, to tell the truth, I perceived it not to the point of hurting me. Not at all. It was more like a big headache that made me angrier.

He grinned at her in a way she could only describe as predatory. "Who are you?" Liv tried to stand, but was still unable to make it to her feet. Her head swam from the blow to her head. "Come now, beauty. Let me help you." The strange man lifted her by the armpits and walked her to a fur covered chair near a table. "I am Killian O'Mara of the Blackfoot Pack," he said with the slightest Irish lilt to his voice. He gave her a courtly little bow before sitting in the chair across the table from her.