Literary Stray Dogs Novels & Stories

He was as full of himself as ever. I couldn't be bothered to spar with him. "And if I say no?" A trace of irritation crossed his face, and just as he opened his mouth to say more, Karina's voice had already climbed higher. "Layla, you think dressing up like a decent person makes you fit to stand with us? Don't forget the filthy things you've done! You deserve to be thrown out like a stray." "Steward, a stray's wandered into the hall. Deal with her, quickly, before she soils the Thorne family's dignity."

I’d been forgotten in hell. The other inmates called me “the stray nobody wanted”. Violence was their sport; filthy words were their weapon. “Still lying about being Alpha’s lover? How come he never visits?” Their laughter echoed off the walls as fists rained down on me. “You think you could be a Luna? Wake up! You’re a stray dog. Say it!” Curled up on the floor, bleeding and crying, I whispered, “I’m sorry… I’m a stray dog. I don’t deserve Alpha… I won’t love him again…”

He wasn’t sure when that change had started. The "pack" had grown in strange directions. Mira, living now in the third-floor attic with three ferrets and a rotating flock of lovers, ran a black-market delivery service that was both a joke and an institution. Olivine presided over the garden and, according to rumor, had once maced a city inspector with homebrew habanero oil. There were the twins, fractured off and living two blocks east, but never more than ten hours away from a family dinner or a crisis. There was the cat, and the dogs, and the endless churn of new strays, stray people just as much as animals, who appeared with bruised knuckles and half-legible names and got folded in before

"Do you hear this, Felix? He threatens us! He speaks as if he has a rank that doesn't exist!" Scarlet stepped up beside her father, her voice low and biting. "He’s a liar, Felix. He’s a stray dog from the Wastes who found a girl desperate enough to believe his stories. If you let them walk out of here, you’re telling every rogue in the country that Crimson Falls is open for business."

It protested with a groan, metal flaking in his hands. “Rot’s our friend tonight,” he said. “Means no one’s used this in a long time.” “Except rats,” Mirella said. “And whatever those are.” She pointed to a set of paw‑prints in the mud just inside—too big for any normal vermin, too small for full‑grown wolves. “Strays,” the Ashridge scout said. “Dogs. Maybe a few skinny rogues who squeezed through years ago to avoid patrols. No fresh scent.”

If the Civic Hall was still standing, it wasn't because Elias made a mistake; it was because the chess board had shifted in a direction Kira couldn't see from the top of that Spire. "What are you missing, Reyes?" I muttered, throwing the car into drive. I didn't chase the packs. I chased Tyler. But Tyler wasn't a werewolf. He didn't have a pack compound to run to, no Alpha to shield him. He was a stray, a kid plucked from the gutters just like Leo, bound not by wolf blood, but by the fanatical, human doctrine of The Cleansing. And strays don't hide in abandoned buildings when the sky turns violet, they hide in plain sight, where the noise masks their paranoia.

Unfortunately, the roads weren't designed to handle this kind of volume, and the Governor was too stupid to allow evacuees to drive on the opposite side of the highway coming out of the coastal towns. People have run out of gas, which has caused even bigger problems as they abandon their cars on the road. They're out of their cars talking to other travelers around them, throwing footballs, playing Frisbee and hacky sack; the Charleston hippies are out in full force. The rain has let up, and passengers sit on the hoods of their cars having picnics and sharing food with strangers. It's like they're out for a Sunday drive and not trying to avoid the storm of the century.

Public opinion on the Internet gradually subsided, and the night sky slowly turned darker. Adina leaned against the balcony with a laptop on her lap. She was writing codes for her company’s new project. She always felt the most relaxed whenever she was working. Woof! Woof! All of a sudden, she heard dogs barking from outside the window. When one dog barked, many of the other dogs in the surrounding area kept barking too. Adina pushed the window open and looked out with a frown. She noticed that a few stray dogs had appeared in the neighborhood out of the blue.

My soul now yearned for someone, the girl was to be my mate. If she was being hunted, then she was probably a stray. Stray wolves are wolves that had been abandoned by their pack, either because their pack had been wiped out or because they had committed a crime and were labelled as a traitor. Whichever one it was I knew that if she was being tracked by Hunters then sending out a public search for her would only bring the wolves that Hunted her closer to their target. I need to find her in a way that wouldn’t attract much attention.

Twitching his head in an indication for her to move with him. She was careful to find footing. Glancing down, she noticed he was barefoot. Standing on these jagged rocks. She’d never seen someone out walking the lands of Ardae barefoot. He was scanning the fog as though he could see. “Can you see?” She asked. “No. But I can hear. Smell. And feel their movement.” “What are they?” He didn’t look back at her. “Most call them the Dogs of Battling.” “This far East?”