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.

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?"

"Don't worry, Don Camollo. Donna Selena is just having a little psychotic break because she's too worried about her daughter. A few injections will fix it." My whole body trembled as I stepped backward. I knew that once I was injected with the sedatives, everything would be lost, and Nina would still die right before my eyes. Was I still unable to change Nina's fate despite being reborn? Was I doomed to watch helplessly as all her organs were harvested? "Arturo, are you really going to help an outsider kill your wife and daughter? If anything happens to Nina, I'll never forgive you!" My voice was sharp and desperate, making even the onlookers hesitate a little. Arturo's steps toward Avelina

"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.

"I didn't want anyone else hurt because of me." "And then?" Elder Sophia's voice was gentle. "We fought. Hand to hand. Then with weapons. He was skilled. Trained. But I was desperate." I swallowed. "Eventually, I gained the upper hand. Broke his neck. It was self-defense.” Silence filled the room. Elder Marcus finally spoke. "You killed a Continental Council-sanctioned hunter." "He was sanctioned to hunt rogues. Not innocent wolves. Not Ghost Wolves who'd committed no crimes." My voice hardened. "The Society corrupted their mandate. Used it to justify genocide."

Someone decided which truths were allowed to exist on paper and which ones weren’t, and they had been thorough enough to fill in the blank spaces such that the pattern wouldn’t be recognized. “Quite clever.” I whispered to myself. “But not clever enough.” My eyelids were falling and I ran a hand over my face, tilting my head backwards and letting the seat carry my full weight. This was as chilling as it was exhausting. There’s only three things that are sacred to wolves; bonds, hierarchy and territory. And I felt like I was caught in an unholy entanglement of all three.