Killing Sacred Cows Novels & Stories

"First of all, this is my house. It's my right to keep as many wolves as I want. Secondly…" I looked at Liam, my voice flat and unfeeling. "The breeding center has deemed Liam to be a defective product, and the exchange process has already been completed. The courier is coming today to pick him up for return. "Also, the way defective products are handled after return is… euthanasia." The word "euthanasia" hit Liam like a sledgehammer. He stumbled backward, and his face quickly drained of all color. "Impossible! You said you liked me," Liam rasped out, fear flooding his eyes.

Oblivious to his cold tone, she grinned, "Caitlin is dead. Keeping her stuff brings bad luck. I'll replace it with mine. Give me some cash. I'm going to shop for our future." He rushed over and slammed the wardrobe shut, trapping her hand. She yelped in pain, but he didn't care, picking up my clothes like they were gold. "No one steps in here without my say-so," he warned, putting them back. She stared at him incredulously. "What are you thinking? She's gone. Nothing's stopping us. We can get hitched tomorrow." He glared, pulling out our wedding photo. "No. I'm still married. Even dead, she is my wife. We are just in a cold war."

“For our first-timers—Dominic—here’s your briefing. This beast is bigger than any boar you’ve seen. White as fresh snow, tusks sharp enough to gut a bear, and a bad temper to match. It shows up only on the morning of the Solstice. Kill it, roast its heart over evergreen branches, and you’ll have the strength of ten wolves for the coming year’s battles.” “Sounds charming,” I said dryly. “It’s a sacred tradition,” he corrected, though the gleam in his eyes made me think he cared more about the battle part than the sacred one. “Finding it’s easy. Killing it’s the part that separates the warriors from the corpses.” “Great pep talk.” Without another word, he raised a hand, signaling the start. Th

The yellow yolk and grease splattered across the bottom of the closet door, leaving a sharp, ugly stain on the wood. --- That evening, Dad’s older sister came over, cradling a quiet Leo in her arms, trying to talk some sense into Mom. "You can't bring back the dead. I know it's a nightmare, but you still have Leo. You have to keep living for him." Mom turned her head with agonizing slowness. "It's because I was always thinking about saving everything for Leo... that I destroyed Nova." Her sister-in-law choked on her next words, completely silenced.

I had gone from an early-death supporting character to an even more disposable cannon fodder. In that instance, my death in the exam hall became a plot device. Rachel was so frightened by it that she almost failed to attend the same university as Timothy, turning it into a major plot point in the story. Watching the barrage of comments urging me to 'just die already', a dangerous thought crept into my mind. Maybe I should just accept it. The repeated failures had worn me down, leaving me drained and defeated. However, I could not choose to walk willingly toward certain death.

I knew he was about to say something else to piss me off again. "Croissant," I repeated. "Oh, my sweet Eve. It looks like you need some more education. It's pronounced cwa-sohn," Nolan remarked. "No it's not. It's pronounced CROSS-ANT because we're in America, you pretentious, pedantic prick! We beat the French." I sneered. "You guys are absolutely hilarious together. I had no idea you two were so close," Robbie sounded amused. Me? Close with Nolan Walters? On what planet? "Don't be absurd, Robbie. We are like oil and water," I waved my hand in dismissal.

My husband, Gideon Huber, always thought of himself as a saint. He capitalized on my sacrifices to enhance his own reputation. In my previous life, I was beaten to death by a homeless man he had sponsored, and the baby I was carrying died as well. Gideon had rushed to the scene, wailing in grief, but his words were laced with bitter irony. "Why did you resist? If you had just complied, you wouldn't have died. Now that you're dead, what will people think of me?"

I pushed my anger down and tried to explain, "She's not really trying to save our daughter. That consent form hides an organ donation clause. If I sign it, Nina will die!" Arturo looked down at Avelina, cradled in his arms. Her face paled, but soon tears of grievance welled up. "Don Camallo, I don't know how I offended Donna Selena to make her publicly accuse me like this. It's just a minor clause, a routine step in emergency care. No other family has ever made such a big deal about it like her." Arturo glanced carefully at the consent form, then turned to me, his tone helpless.

"Self-defense, Kaelen." "You built an armory on my border." "I dismantled it." "Zoning violation." Damian stepped forward. He looked furious. "You killed sixty men!" "You destroyed billions in assets!" "You are a rabid dog that needs to be put down!" Lycian ignored him. He looked only at Kaelen. "Control your pup, Inquisitor." "Or I will." Kaelen raised a hand. Damian shut up instantly. "We are not here to argue about the past," Kaelen said.

With a nod from Malachi, they departed the office, making their way to the fight. Outside, the gruesome battle intensified, leaving many wolves dead on the ground. William can't help but notice the blood everywhere, making it seem like more of a bloodbath than anything. William was distressed that the wolves sacrificed themselves for a pathetic Alpha, who was too afraid to be seen. As he walked around the land, he could not help but think how these good warriors have died in vain believing in their Alpha. William regretted everything that had happened, but that's the reality of the werewolf existence: it's a matter of survival, kill or be killed.