Hell Hound Novelas e Histórias

His thumb caressed her delicate hand as he tried to figure out where to start. “Like you, I'm immortal. Hellhounds don't age like werewolves. We are young for a long time. A 20-year-old werewolf is an adult and ready to become an Alpha of his pack, but a 20-year-old hellhound is equivalent to a 10-year-old. We're small, and our brain isn't fully developed yet, just like a 10-year-old here. That's how old I was when I was kicked out of hell.

Sara echoed, enthusiastic as ever. “A lycan?” “Possibly. But that’s all we heard.” “What is his name?” “Bloodhound. That is what he goes by. No one knows his real name. But we have seen what he leaves in his wake — a wreckage. He burns every village…” “Enough,” Courtney cut her off, raising a finger. “Your input is well noted and appreciated. Perhaps you’d be an asset to the Shadow Pack in the future. Perhaps.” Then she stole a glance at me before walking away. “See me in my office, Zoe.” —

I feel the panic start to rise up in my chest and between running for my life and trying to keep calm well it's becoming difficult, no Calm down Bree this is just a dream I tell myself. A dream I’m dreaming and any minute I’m going to wake up, that seems to be short-lived when I feel something hot blast right past my face, holy shit that felt very fucking real, what the fuck was that? I reluctantly peer over my shoulder and instantly regret it, there are at least 8 people screaming and chasing after me. Where the fuck am I? And what do these people want? As I’m running I pass a sign that says Welcome to the city of Houndgrave known as the home of hell hounds.

Another woma, Hellen. The reason for his rejection. Hellen was a powerful wolf having alpha blood. She belonged to the Silver pack. The neighbor and good friend of Black lead pack, her pack wasn't as build and progressive as the black lead ones but she still had the blood that any alpha would love to have in his race.

I choke out as I wipe my tears, he shake his head and I know I’m well and truly fucked. “Mia, it doesn’t matter who you tell. You are in our world. I am known in the human world. Have you heard of someone called Fenrir?” I look at him and search for my memories. The name sounds familiar. It hits me Fenrir is the hound of Hell. My head turns to look at him and I nod my head, hoping I’m wrong and that his parents like theatrics. “What do you know about him?” he asks and I look down and fidget with my fingers and bite my lower lip until I taste the metallic taste of blood.

And a mad one at that. The Hellhound, they called him. Even though he was important, he was known to go on certain missions with his underlings though those particular ones were usually very specific. Anyone who ever got a visit by the New York Mafia with him being there meant they had done something terrible and could not live to the next day.

His hands both pinned at his back. "Stephen". He was scared but Stephen signalled to him that it was okay. "What a show Zol"? He shook his head in disapproval. "Hybrid huh"? Zol smelled his scent glands. "A cute little pup eh"? "He isn’t a pup Zol". Stephen disapproved. "So boy. Ready to change huh"? He grazed the side of Callum 's neck tracing his nail on the vein pulsing blood. "Please don’t hurt me". He was whimpering trying to get free.

Something massive crashed through the hedge below, and I dropped the last six feet, rolling, coming up with my back to the stone wall. The hound was enormous. Not an Academy breed. Not anymore. Its fur had gone patchy, falling away in clumps to reveal skin that glowed with corrupted moonlight - the silver-green of lunar poison, the kind that turned loyal beasts into weapons. Foam dripped from jaws that could crush a femur. Its eyes, once the warm brown of trained animals, were now void-black, reflecting nothing, hungry for anything that moved. Between me and the hound, a first-year girl had frozen.

He said, “I’ll go over there to pee. You guys must keep watching for me.” Hound was holding a cigarette in his mouth as he walked away from them. He stood next to the cliff, unzipped his pants, and stared into the dark sea ahead. When he turned around to look at the lively scenery on the island, as a matter of course, Hound also felt deeply upset deep down. Indeed, there was no need to guard anything here. No one was capable of climbing up here unless Lino and the others were gods. “Damn it! I have no idea how long I need to be tormented with this suffering,” Hound cursed as he began to urinate.

A force one again sucked her in from behind, making her inhale all the oxygen she thought she needed sharply. A stinging pain on her left cheek woke her up. A soft groan escaped her lips and her hand reached for her cheek. It was a warm and a liquid substance. Blood. Of course it was blood, she's in hell after all. It's filled with nightmares, demons, vampires and unusual, creepy creatures. "Lucius?" Her voice barely being heard as she called out. Her eyes scanned across the place, it was dark. Pitch black, "Lucius?" "Lucius is dead." It was the deep and manly voice that teased her and sang to her earlier.