Light Fury Angry Novels & Stories

I want to fucking get angry that people I care about got hurt and there’s nothing I can do to help them. Dante and Beck mean the world to me. Dante makes my best friend happy and he has become a good friend to me. And beck is someone who has become dear to me.

Rage was a fleeing feeling, as all I could think about was his safety. “This war is about me, Ryder. You can’t have expected me to do that, while our people are dying because of me!” Ryder looked back at me over his shoulder. Anger is what I saw. This is a side of Ryder that I have never witnessed before. His eyes are dark. He turned his back to me. His muscles rippled as he prepared himself for the fight of his life. “Ryder let’s leave. Please! Everyone should be gone by now. Please don’t fight him.” I feared the worst. He started walking towards Ares like he didn’t even hear me. His fists tightened at his sides.

FANGBORN'S LEDGER ♣ DARIUS ♣ It was a crazy morning. I hadn’t expected any guests at all, not after the gunfire before dawn. I only invited Lycus—but somehow, I ended up welcoming a few weirdos. I was burning inside with intensity. This wasn’t rage. Rage is for amateurs. This was something else—something older, darker. The kind of anger that waits ten years to pull a trigger. The kind that buries pack brothers and sends flowers to their widows.

The remnants of his earlier fury, his anger, his possessiveness, that desperate, almost frantic need to reclaim what he believed belonged to him, crumbled under the crushing realization of what stood before him now. Because this wasn’t rage. There was no chaos in Lucian, no wild unpredictability, no loss of control that could be exploited or reasoned with. This was something infinitely more dangerous: fury contained so perfectly, so completely, that it became lethal. It chose its target, measured its impact, and ensured there was nothing left standing when it was done. “I...” Aaron tried, his voice cracking before the word could fully form, stripped bare of the arrogance it had carried momen

Lightning danced around Mane’s elusive figure, as he prepared to unleash his fury on the two before him. “My rage, can you handle it?” Mane asked, and he activated Brimstone. *ROAR* Fire and lightning came to a temporary consensus, and they danced together around the man who had asked for their aid. Like brothers in arms reunited after a long feud, their crossed swords and melded together. Blue lightning; golden yellow flames. Oh how they surrounded the figure of the Supreme, their voices raised as they cried in expectation.

If only she had known, she wouldn't have dressed before going out. "Why are you angry with me? I didn't do anything, ah!” "I'm not mad at you!" She glared at him and let go of his hand. "Then why are you giving me that treatment? I don't deserve your silent treatment, Sawyer Zane!” He was even more stunned by what she said. His eyes were expressionless as he looked at her. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm just pissed off. Don't mind me.” She was furious when he said that. He pissed off? Don't mind him? What nonsense is this? After ignoring her that's what he would say? Because he pissed off? What about her?

And from this distance, I wasn’t supposed to be able to hear a damn thing but my hyper fixation on them made it very easy to. “Eyes front, Cara Mia,” he said to her while the endearment he used, my love, felt like acid against my own veins. Her spine went rigid, her eyes fluttering as she forced her gaze away from me and fixed it forward instead. Like she was ignoring me. My jaw locked as my nails pressed into my palm so hard I could swear that I had drawn my own blood. But then I exhaled slowly. The rage didn’t fade, not at all, it just settled. It had to. For now.

A deep-seated fury burned within them, a fire that seemed to fuel their every move. Their eyes blazed with an unspoken rage, a rage that seemed to course through their very veins like liquid flame. Their arms moved with a swift, deadly precision, the edges of their blades slicing across the skin of their victims with a sickening ease. The slayers themselves were a terrifying sight to behold. Clad in black from head to toe, their faces masked by darkness, they seemed to blend seamlessly into the shadows. Only their eyes gleamed with a malevolent intensity, a fierce light that seemed to burn brighter with every passing moment.

What the fuck? My anger snapped like a whip, and the sharp murmurs in the air only fueled it, each whisper stabbing at me as if trying to wound Liora through her words. I could feel her heart break as if it were my own, her composure finally breaking—her face pale, her lips slightly parted as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t. I curled my fists and spoke, my voice booming over the tense atmosphere. “This is unacceptable. I demand a solution. Now!” Every head in the crowd turned towards me, the tension thick enough to taste. My lycan coiled tightly, ready to strike, glowing with warning that echoed in my mind.

The look of fury in my eyes mirrored the chaos before me. I had to do something—anything—before someone got seriously hurt. We need to stop them, Lyra, Amira, my wolf, warned urgently. "I know," I muttered under my breath. "But I can’t just expose myself like that." My gaze darted between their faces—fangs bared, saliva dripping from their snarling mouths. The rage in their glowing eyes was deadly. "The fury and anger we shifters carry..." I whispered to myself.