Lady Fang Novels & Stories

I couldn't help but lower my head, my hands trembling with nervousness. No one could resist Lance's aura—not even Ulrik. Lance's voice thundered, "Adelaide fought in five southern border battles, slew three enemy Gammas, infiltrated alone to open city gates, and led three thousand wolves to hold off thirty thousand foes. Her merits are documented and acknowledged by Lycan Erasmus. She's a 'Silvermoon Fang' knight now. The paperwork's in order. You want to see it?" My wolf ears flattened in shock—'Silvermoon Fang' knight? Impossible!

The torchlight barely showed the stranger’s face, but Lesley caught the flash of a mark on the wrist… silver ink in the shape of a fang. Her lips parted, a slow smile unfurling. “Silver Fang.” Her voice was hoarse from disuse, but the taste of those words was sweet. Silver Fang meant enemies of Ryder. Silver Fang meant wolves who might hate Crystal as much as she did. The figure pressed a finger to their lips, then slipped the bundle between the bars of her cell. The package was no larger than her palm, but the weight of it was heavy. It was Forbidden magic. She could feel it pulsing even through the cloth.

I had to appoint New warriors, get a Beta, a Gamma just to make the pack complete. "Okay, I'll let you get completely ready then," She said as she got out of my room.I quickly finished up my makeup and went out my room to the gate where a lot of carts were waiting for us mateless women. Today was going to determine my fate. This got me really really getting nervous. We entered the cartes and went to the mate ball which is was being held at the Lycan Kingdom for the first time in centuries. I had a lot of rumours about the Lycan king. He had to take over the Kingdom at a very age of fifteen after his glfatger was brutally murdered.

“Then we carve one.” Barbie hovered higher, a halo of blue fire sparking from her hands. “You two have no idea how much I’ve missed a good massacre.” “Remind me never to piss off a fae,” Marigold muttered. “You won’t have to. You’re practically one now.” Before I could respond, the first Fang charged — feral, shrieking, claws raking the stone. We moved together — instinct, rhythm, fury. Marigold shifted mid-leap, her wolf bursting free in a blaze of dark fire and silver eyes. Barbie’s light flared, a storm of blue lightning that cracked through the mist and scorched the Fang to ash.

She stood shakily, wiping her hands on her cloak as she scanned the area for anything else. Her gaze caught something lodged in the bark of a tree a few feet away. She initially believed it to be a broken branch. Then she stepped closer. And froze. It was a fang. Not a natural fang. Not torn from a wolf’s mouth. It was carved. Sharpened. A weapon piece used by warriors who crafted fang blades for close combat. Pack-made. Lyra reached out and pulled it free carefully. The fang's edges were black and dried with blood stains.

She appeared more mature, radiating a sensual allure that set her apart. She was Mia Ingram, the Foxy Lady, a demoness who had lived for 70 years!

I huffed, squinting my eyes in apprehension. “Well, my lady. It is a good thing that I know all of your tricks. I will not be easily fooled by you. And if you think you can get away with any of your pranks, I assure you that I am well aware of all of your hiding spots in this palace. I will find you and bring you to order myself.” Leana said, a stern and stoic expression on her face.

It wasn’t one of the regular sounds of the house; it was sharper, impossible to turn down. My nails dug into the wood until the varnish gave way. The sound sliced me—Lily’s pitch caught in my throat, vowels swallowed into silence. > They will live. They will grow. They will become Iron Fang. Trade land. Trade iron. Trade what you value. Or watch them howl our names. A photograph bled through the fractured glass: a small, mud-streaked stuffed wolf with one button eye, the other scratched out. Blood smudged the fur where a child had once hugged it close.

At our class reunion, my so-called best friend, Shannon Drew, pulled out a box stuffed with folded notes. A line was taped across the top— [Draw one of Mia Martinez's hopeless-romantic quotes.] The room burst out laughing. Someone pulled a love letter I'd written to Damien Byford senior year. "Damien smiled at me today. I want to give him all my tomorrows, too." Someone else grabbed one from college. "It's okay if he doesn't text back. He'll think of me when he's not busy." Damien had never replied to a single letter. I'd always figured he'd tossed them years ago. Then Shannon drew letter No. 99. Leaning against Damien, she laughed as she read, "If you ever decide you don't want m

"The texts said the Fang was sealed in the heart of the temple." A soft chuckle froze me in place. "Looking for this, sister?" A woman stepped from the shadows, holding something that gleamed white even in the darkness. The Fang of the First Alpha—a bent tooth the length of my hand. I recognized her instantly—Vivienne Frost, one of The Mother's most loyal witches. Her white-blonde hair glowed like a halo around her face, but there was nothing innocent about her smile. "Celeste," she purred. "Everyone thought you were dead. Dorian's been quite the host, hasn't he?"