Horns Novels & Stories

He had found a Minotaur. More precisely, the Minotaur had found him. It stood over him, a good eighteen inches taller, its large, dark eyes gazing at him intently. The creature’s lips were pulled back slightly, revealing large square teeth, and Andric knew it was not a smile. The brows were furrowed, giving him a fierce countenance. Coupled with that was the fact that his horns, a most impressive pair of curving spikes, seemingly aimed right at Andric, shone impressively in the firelight.

[Gleaming Wolf Eyes of Malice]: Unleash the power of your pure malice through your eyes, scaring enemies. [Crimson-red Horn of Infernal Flare]: Generate a large crimson-red horn in the middle of your forehead to gather mana and magic and unleash a powerful fire attack from it. [Magic-Enhanced Muscles]: Enhance your muscles with magic and mana to make them stronger and more flexible. [Magic-Enhanced Bones]: Enhance your bones with magic and mana to make them stronger and more resilient and sturdier. [Enhanced Wolf Senses]: Your senses are enhanced like those of wolves, with an amazing sense of smell and hearing.

“AHHHHHHH! My horns!” The angry bull general shouted as he felt that his two prized horns had broken. “Hey… Hey… It seems like you’d be better off being called a buffalo instead of a bull now. Hahahaha” Long Chen laughed happily at how angry the bull general was. The ancestors laughed contentedly at how much the bull general was suffering from losing his horns.

The air exploded. Gasps. Outrage. Shock. Kael roared in fury. “You can’t—!” “I can,” I said, silver light flaring once more. “And I just did.” The ground trembled. Somewhere in the distance, a horn sounded—different from before. Older. The seer’s eyes widened in fear. “That horn…” she whispered. “That’s not a pack.” Ronan turned sharply toward the eastern horizon. “Then what is it?” The seer swallowed.

Someone behind me was already taking bets on how many horns I’d manage before I toppled, and I tried not to listen too closely to the numbers. The drums picked up again, faster this time, matching the frantic beat of my own pulse. Around the hall, warriors struck their horns together in a ragged rhythm, each sharp clang answered by another until the entire hall pulsed as one. My father had once told me it was an old Blackthorn custom. One horn answered another, just as the pack always answered its own. I tightened my grip around the carved horn, its polished wood damp with condensation, and lifted my eyes to meet Asger’s across

But it was his eyes—those pitch-black orbs—that held my gaze. They were endless, deep and fathomless, as though no light could ever escape from them. They seemed to pierce through the very fabric of reality, holding within them centuries of knowledge, cruelty, and an insatiable hunger. Atop his head, two horns curved back from his temples, dark and jagged like twisted obsidian. They were sharp and elegant, a stark contrast to the softness of his features. These horns added an undeniable air of danger to his beauty—reminding anyone who looked at him that he was no mere mortal, but something far older, far more powerful.

He dropped my hair, and stepped back. “Was Isabell and Damien your real parents?” He asked with a serious face now. I paused. No one knew they were not my real family, so what would make him ask this? Were my eyes that uncommon? Not many people saw both, because my hair alway seems to get in my face when I’m working. My right eye was blue, and my left silver. It was another weird thing I was born with, besides my horns. It is so hard to hide them because they are an inch long. They are so sharp, they sometimes rip my headband. It’s just an extra precaution to make sure no one saw them. My bangs hid them well on their own, but the headband has two holes my

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