How To Get The Bloodhound Fang Novels & Stories

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.”

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.

Rona grabbed her spear, her Pale Fang scouts dropping into low, defensive stances. The first Iron Hound lunged. It did not aim for the men. It leaped straight for Killian, its massive, armored chest designed to crush bones upon impact. Killian did not step back. He met the beast head-on, his large hands reaching out to grab the iron plates on its shoulders. The impact drove his boots three inches into the frozen dirt, but he held his ground. With a grunt of pure, savage strength, he twisted his shoulders, using the beast’s own momentum to hurl it sideways into the rock face. The iron armor cracked against the stone, the hound letting out a sickening crunch as its ribs shattered.

“Take what you need from me, my mate.” That’s all the invitation I need. I’ve got her in my arms and I’ve ripped her clothes off before she’s taken a breath. Somewhere in my mind, I know I have to have some restraint, so instead of sinking my fangs into her neck, I throw her on the couch and push my face between her thighs. I run my nose on the scent of her blood, finding her femoral artery before sinking my fangs into her thigh.

She is beckoning for me to lay on my side behind her and cast my front leg over her shoulder. So, I do. We lay like that for a while panting after our mating bond. Her fur has blood on the neck where I have sunk my long fangs into it, which caused her to whimper. I hate to inflict any kind of pain on Roxy or her wolf but it is the only way to mark what is mine. Afterwards, we howled so loud they must have hears us in the next damn country.

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.

I say, laughing as I pull my guns and take aim. “So now that is cleared up, tell me Hound, why did you betray your club and brothers?” I ask, as he looks murderous. “Enough, I want her alive. So boys, have your fun with her. Then, if there is anything left, I will kill her. Hound, you said you always wanted to fuck her raw. Well, you can go first. Oh, and make the bitch scream, make her bleed.” Foxy says, and I look at Hound.

"I'm sorry I have been a shitty owner. I have just been using you to track without even thinking you need to eat too. You have done good work, big guy." Maxwell shouted from ahead, impatient. "What's the hold-up? I think I can see some lights coming from up ahead. I'm pretty sure we are almost at the rogue wolves' base. I can feel it in my bones." I watched the bloodhound tear into the fresh meat like he hadn't eaten in days, then look up at me with those big eyes, barking once, licking the hand that had fed him, clearly begging for more. I chuckled despite everything. "That's all, boy. No more. Back to work now."

One head was half-destroyed, brain matter leaking out. The moment it locked onto me, eyes glowing that eerie, hungry green. It let out a snarl and lunged. I didn't flinch. Not because of the OP loot my family gave me—this time, I came armed with something better. Right before its jaws hit my throat, I whipped out my secret weapon: A mega-sized chicken drumstick. "Go! Drumstick!" I chucked it. The hellhound stopped mid-lunge, instantly shifting back to its true form—three drooling dogs barreling after the meat.

"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.”