How To Get The Bloodhound Fang Novels & Stories

Callum tried to be precise and accurate this time. For the fucking 5th time. And he couldn’t catch a hamster. Seriously. With the power he now had being a vampire and a wolf. Jeez. He took his mark. And focused. He blocked everything in his mind. The buzz from the pack. The encouragement from Dad, even when he wasn’t Swift. He could hear them. He blocked all teases from Max and the Betas in the pack. He zoomed out everything except for the little white creature who was grazing and nibbling on the grass.

They didn’t factor in that I am old as the wolves beneath my feet and that when the pack’s blood runs hot it finds muscle to match. Claws cut clean and ugly. I took two across my shoulder, tasted iron, and I loved it—loved the clean utility of it. Pain is honest. The first Black Fang screamed and I silenced him by crushing his windpipe with teeth. He didn’t get the time to beg. Another lunged with a dagger; I closed and tore his jaw so the howl never left him. The floor was slick with their blood in minutes, a wet mirror reflecting the speed of the dying.

It growls, staggering, and turns to me with a terrifying snarl that showcases its pointed teeth. Panting, I drop my bow, preparing to shift, but then Ryan barrels into my line of sight in his beast form and tackles the hellhound to the ground. Smoke begins to funnel from the door of the packhouse followed by screams for help. I don’t waste a second. I turn from Ryan and the hellhound and sprint to the mangled door, trying to yank it open, but it’s jammed. Freya’s voice shudders inside, coughing and sputtering.

We collided hard and the hound made an ear shattering whistling sound. I was hungry, thirsty, and sleep deprived. So the bloodhound was faster. Its teeth sank into my shoulder as we hit the ground and pain flared through me, making me grit my teeth to hold back a howl. Twisting with one singular determination to survive, I locked my jaws around its throat and bit down with everything I had left. It thrashed, clawing at my sides, ripping fur and skin alike. I didn’t let go. With a final, desperate twist, I felt cartilage give way. The creature went limp beneath me, its weight crushing, as warm liquid soaked into my fur.

╭──────༺♡༻──────╮ Alpha Flynn's POV ╰──────༺♡༻──────╯ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ I gripped the leash of the massive bloodhound so tight my knuckles ached, letting the big bastard pull me through the endless fucking forest paths. I didn't know where the warriors got the bloodhound, but I didn't care. Maxwell walked a few steps ahead, chugging from the last water bottle like he was dying of thirst.

"This... this can't…" Before I could say anything else, the door groaned open. Two guards walked in heavily, raven-inked necks pulsing. One carried a tray, needles, hooks, black vials. The other smirked, fangs yellow. “Boss,” Yellow Fangs grunted. “Prep her for the ritual? Siphon the bond, Rivermist dog’s blood will sweeten it.” Killian nodded, stepping back. “Quick. Julius will be here anytime soon. Make her scream when he arrives.”

Nathan's feet were becoming renewed, his nails coming back as newly pedicured and the decayed part was fallen off. “He is now conscious, but he needs blood of large quantity, that would boost his energy to be revived back," the elder said to me, I folded my arms invisible to the outside world but to my members, they saw my squeezed aggressive face. “How would we get a large quantity of blood from? Would a pure deer serve the purpose?” I asked, worried and tensed, this was the only opportunity to get Scarlett, I dare not miss the opportunity. "A dog that knows how to hunt would be used," he replied after a few minutes of thinking.

“Eve, that's blood!!” I didn't hesitate, or think twice. The doctor was still busy loading the syringe and I knew this was my opportunity to quench this mad hunger. Unleashing all the power I had left, I pushed his hand off and went for it, dipping my teeth or even fangs into his neck, I drew in as much blood as I wanted to quench my thirst. He pulled me off. “Calm down girl…”

Power surged, eager and restrained only by will. I backed away from the window. “I don’t want this.” You survived without wanting it, my wolf replied. You’ll survive with it. A scream echoed down the corridor distant but sharp. Then another. My head snapped up. My wolf surged forward, alert and hungry. I smelled blood fresh, coppery, wrong. The door burst open. Mara stumbled inside, a gash across her arm, blood soaking her sleeve. “Stay back,” she barked then froze when she saw my face.

She was out here. I squinted through the field of blood and bones, and I saw her and Tyler warding off the new hounds that were heading for the pack house. A hound took advantage of my distraction and plunged toward me, and we stumbled down the path. I bit into his hind limb and he howled in agony. Swiping my claws at him, I ripped off his fur. I slammed him into the earth, pinning him with my paw and snarling at him. I ripped a chunk out of his jugular and left him to bleed to death.