Romans & histoires How To Get The Bloodhound Fang

She was so responsive. I leaned away from her, sliding a finger beneath the hem of her panties and peeling them off her. Fisting her panties in my hand, I brought them to my nose and sniffed. Every drop of blood in my body went rushing south. My fangs came out, the smell of my mate driving my wolf mad with the need to mark her. I gently pushed her legs wide open, releasing a shaky breath and the sight of her pink mound. I barely managed to draw my fangs back, our gazes colliding as I lowered my head.

"Were JETs always this dangerous? Or is this year special?" ¤ ¤ ¤ Someplace away from them, a youth was engaged in a battle with a three-headed hound. The hound skin was the darkest shade of black, while his eyes were oozing deadly yellow hue. The hound's claws looked so sharp that they would cut the steel in one swoop.

Hound said curtly, any trace of humor from before gone from his voice. “Wait! No!” Binge roared, struggling against the chains. “You can’t take them! I won’t let you!” “You won’t let me?” Hound growled, striding toward him. Meeting the furious beast eye to eye, he seized the horn of interlaced branches protruding from Binge’s head. Hound’s eyes ignited in a bright, metallic pearlescence. “It seems I have been too lenient with you. You’d do well to remember your place.”

Then another. And another. My heart slammed against my ribs. I shoved the resin into a crack between two stones and struck my blade against flint. Spark. Nothing. “Come on,” I hissed. Another spark. This time the resin caught. A bitter, choking smoke rolled up at once, twisting through the trees and warping the blood scent in the air. “There!” Odin shouted from uphill. The first carrion hound burst from the brush. It was bigger than I remembered, all slick gray fur and jutting bones, with a muzzle too long and teeth too many to fit inside it properly. Its nose twitched wildly. Behind it came three more.

I press the bloody fingerprint directly into the center of the bone, staining it. I want him to see it. I want him to know that everything he loves belongs to me now. The taste of victory is not sweet. It tastes like iron. It tastes like more. My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and open the Moonbook app. My pinned post is still at the very top of the local network feed. Item: Unknown beast fang. Sourced from the ruins of the Blue-Claw territory. Highest bidder takes it. The comments are a war zone. Thousands of wolves from across the continent are bidding fortunes just to get their hands on a piece of Julian’s humiliation. The price is currently sitting at three million pounds.

I would like to be friends though," I said solemnly. His blue eyes landed on me and he grunted harshly, okay. My stomach rumbled and I sighed. "Is there blood here? I'm hungry," I mumbled softly and both males offered their wrists. I chose Faelon's because taking blood from the actual devil seemed like too much. I sealed my bit with a lick of my tongue. Feeling better, well at least full, I asked Lucifer when he could take me. "It is a dangerous place, do you have a weapon? Can you fight as your beast?" He questioned curiously.

The fight was clean. Too clean. Two bloodhounds down, their bodies steaming in the grass. I crouched to work, pulling a dagger from my belt and sawing at the jaw of the nearest one. Fangs gleamed under the gore, perfect for my next batch of shurikens. The sword at my side buzzed, irritation sharp as a hornet. Lachlan: “You’re using me to fetch dog teeth. Is that all I am to you?”

She knew how good it felt. “Please, BloodHound. I wish to taste it. You can mate with her whilst I do it, I don’t mind,” her head tilted to the side and she innocently peered back into the BloodHound’s starlit eyes, timidly biting her lower lip like she’d seen the humans do it.

My eyelids felt heavy and sleep took me. Waking to a low growl. I peeked out of my nest to see the hellhound’s eyes glowing staring at the bedroom door. I look at the hound and click my fingers, diverting his attention to me, and I place a finger over my lips, telling him to hush. I climb out of my nest and stalk towards the door. The stench of death and decay wafts under the door and my claws slip and my fangs elongate. This is not happening.

"Good, but not good enough for what's coming" She picked up a dagger with a thin ridge along the hilt. "We need reforged silver weapons strong enough to cut through enhanced Vampire skin and corrupted shifters. And we need shock-resistant blades. Whatever Iron Fangs is brewing...". She paused and her face hardened. We need to be prepared". I turned the dagger in my hand. "Bloodhound supplies the best?". "They always have. They forge with moonstone-infused steel which is stronger, lighter, and more durable". She tapped the blade. "We need at least two chests' worth".