Mirage X Bloodhound Novels & Stories

Vampire and Hybrid blood is mixed – they are hybrid but they can shift… This is strange. When they see me, they run away instead of fighting me. One of them tackles Miracle’s wolf, making her fall down and hit her head before she loses consciousness. It’s like that Rogue tried to knock her out of some kind of trance. They begin running while I am still far from them and acting on my instinct, I run behind them to get to them. Passing by Miracle’s limp wolf, I am tempted to stop for a moment, but I keep running to get to them. Somewhere along the way, Xavier and Dorian join me and it turns into a complete hunt.

Power surged, eager and restrained only by will. I backed away from the window. “I don’t want this.” You survived without wanting it, my wolf replied. You’ll survive with it. A scream echoed down the corridor distant but sharp. Then another. My head snapped up. My wolf surged forward, alert and hungry. I smelled blood fresh, coppery, wrong. The door burst open. Mara stumbled inside, a gash across her arm, blood soaking her sleeve. “Stay back,” she barked then froze when she saw my face.

The words erupted from my chest in an intense, predatory roar. But her scent had vanished. Rain began to pour, interfering with any chance of tracking her trail. When I caught the smell of danger nearby, my fur bristled. I closed my eyes and heightened my Lupine instincts. There were rogue wolves lurking within the forest. More than that—there was a dangerous creature, one of Nocturnus’s lackeys, his guardian who hunted whenever his master unleashed him: a three-headed Cerberus, better known among humans as a hellhound.

"They're really fast!" "Sub-level 10," Grog shouted, leading the way. "Down! Water stops scent!" They reached a rusted iron staircase leading down into a flooded lower level. They splashed into waist-deep water. It was freezing, black, and smelled of decay. "The water won't stop them!" Jack yelled over the splashing. "They aren't tracking scent! They're tracking heat! Infrared!" He could see it now. The Hounds weren't sniffing the air; their mechanical eyes were scanning the thermal spectrum. Jack, with his feverish body temperature, was a beacon in the dark.

The fire behind Mira crackled like it had teeth. Outside, something moved; silent and calculating. Luna-22 wasn’t bluffing. She was close. Watching. But Mira didn’t flinch. Instead, she looked at the map again, fingers tracing the thirteen marks her mother had inked long before any of this began. Resonants. Grey stepped beside her, eyes never leaving the shadows outside the cabin. “What are they?” he asked quietly. Mira swallowed. “Echoes of bloodlines. Wolves like me. Maybe not full copies but touched by the same fire. Hybrids. Survivors.”

This is a trap. Grrrrr... A low growl sounded from all directions. Dozens of pairs of glowing red eyes emerged from the darkness, surrounding them. Grave Hounds. Revira backed away slowly, hugging Ardan tightly. "Don’t be afraid, son." The largest Grave Hound stepped forward. It sniffed the air, its eyes fixed on Ardan. The faint scent of Moon Blood was highly tempting to it. "Go away!" Revira yelled. The Grave Hound leader roared, then leaped to attack.

The digital destination boards were dark. Not empty, though. In the shadows, another scent moved. Sharp. Predatory. Not wolf. Hound. A lean shape padded out from behind a pillar—sleek, black‑furred, eyes gleaming red under the emergency lights. A Tribunal tracking hound—bio‑engineered, nose keyed to Lunaris and other “anomalous” signatures. It snarled softly, hackles rising as it scented them. Its handler, somewhere in the dark, hissed, “Steady—” but the leash was loose enough to let it lunge if it chose.

he beckoned, "step forward." Mirage, her face adorned with a mesmerizing grin, gracefully gathered her gown and moved toward her father. Thronesman unveiled the ancient dagger, its red crystal catching the moon's gentle glow. He delicately took Mirage's hand, making a small, precise cut with the dagger, allowing her blood to drip onto the ground.

Making it impossible to discern his blood from the blood of the bloodhounds. Blood seeping from the cut on his forehead. To fall in his eyes. Not healing. Showing his strength was curtailing. His vision was going hazy, limbs trembling. His mind felt numb. He knew he could stop them for just few minutes more. He doesn't know what will happen next. But he wanted to try till his end. He can't let his little Dove down. No! He has to do it. Distracted he doesn't realise when a bloodhound jumps on his back. Ripping his skin. And he rumbles. Shaking it off.

POV: Xander The second the door was kicked open, I moved. Instinct took over—I stepped in front of Tiana, shielding her with my body. The man who burst in carried a stench I knew all too well—wet fur, sweat, and dried blood. A rogue. Or worse… a blood curse hunter acting on whispers. His heavy boots tracked mud across the wooden floor. His eyes were wild—nervous, hungry, hunting. “You shouldn’t be here,” he growled. “Either of you.”