Lurch Novels & Stories

I scanned the trees in front of us and my eyes fell into the grass with rash movements, just near a chir pine tree. “Quinn, East!” I shouted as I felt something from the east running in our direction. Quinn nodded and immediately positioned her bow to release the arrow with poison. With a bolt, Quinn calmly let go of the arrow when a big brown werewolf appeared. This is our first time to see a brown-haired werewolf, most of the hunts we’ve been to have black or grey fur. “Brown?” Rendall asked as we saw the arrow hit its leg and growl in pain.

she says snapping more pictures with a look of pure glee on her face "Do you think I could sit on one of the lions like thoughs people, so you can get my picture?" "Hahahha Lanna, you do remember why we're here don't you?" Acre asked laughing "Well yes of course but look, it's London guys, it's so exciting" she replies jumping up and down clapping her hands. "So are you enjoying the sights?" a voice asks beside me making me jump "Calm down," he said as I spin to grab his throat and he knocks my hand away "How did you do that?" "Ahhh I can mask my scent, it's a talent I've had since I was a child, it helps me move around freely, I'm who everyone calls the boss but my name is Gregory"

Her stomach clenches. "Fuc*!" she hisses, shoving herself backward, hands grasping desperately for Logan. She scoops him up, crushing him against her chest. Their heartbeats hammer against each other, frantic, terrified. The creatures advance, their steps slow but deliberate, savoring the fear in the air.

She might as well get one for herself as well if this butterfly thing is cool. "Yeah, one second. Let me turn it on", Anna said before reaching her finger underneath the butterfly. When the butterfly 'turned on', Kaylee stared at it in shock and whimpered almost immediately. * * *

#HAREM_OF_LUST 🔞 #CHAPTER_2 ⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳⌛⌛⌛⌛⌛ ⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳⏳ ⌛⌛⌛⌛⌛⌛ ⌛⌛⌛⌛⌛

She had scrubbed it clean that morning, telling herself it was nothing, telling herself she imagined the warmth, the glow, the way it had shifted under her finger. But now there was something new. A single word, etched into the laminate as if burned there. WAKE UP. Luan touched the letters. They were warm. Her fingertip came away clean, but the word remained. She stared at it for a long time. Then she heard it. A howl. Distant, coming from the woods behind campus. Not a dog. Not a coyote. Something larger. Something that made the hair on her arms stand up and the thing behind her ribs lift its head and answer.

He looked over his shoulder and smirked. “My dear mate, did you take me for one of those gutter-wolves who disturbs the peace with a scarred muffler? This machine has a silencer. I have no desire to be a nuisance to the territory.” The Vyrus actually belonged to Lucas Grant—it was a racing predator designed for the elite. My face flushed hot as I inched backward, tightening my cloak to hide my racing heart.

_*]:min-w-0"> Luna's mark pulsed. Steady. Insistent. _*]:min-w-0"> Like a heartbeat. _*]:min-w-0"> Or a warning. _*]:min-w-0">

He threw her over his shoulder and started walking to the stairs. “What’s wrong with the couch?” Jessica asked when Malachi finally lowered her to their bed. “The dog keeps looking at me down there,” Malachi said and Jessica laughed. Malachi undressed her slowly and then himself and got under the covers. She turned toward him and Malachi closed his eyes. “Seriously!” Malachi laughed and rolled on top of her, widening her legs with his own. Two days later, they all stood in the kitchen waiting for Kiran. He had driven past Anchorage an hour earlier and Malachi was pacing up and down. It was growing dark outside and he was both worried and excited.

The larged doors flared open. Lachie stood there. He was nineteen years old and very strong. He had a heavy sword on his back. His eyes were already glowing with a restless yellow light. He looked at us... and at the sword in my hand and the dark look in his father’s eyes. He did not ask any questions. He just bowed his head. "The tracking wolves are ready, Dad," Lachie said. His voice was deep and serious. "The smell of silver leads straight toward the Black Crag. They are not even trying to hide it."