Mutants At Table 9 Novels & Stories

Aya Connor is the only mute Epsilon she-wolf of the Connor Moonfang Pack—fragile, voiceless, and treated as a disposable pawn by her own greedy family. When her father forces her to take her sister’s place in an unwanted mate bond with the terrifying Alpha Kyle Connor, Aya enters the deadly halls of the Rev-9 Crimson Dominion with one goal: keep her dying grandmother, Elder Serena, alive. Kyle Connor is a muscular, ruthless Alpha scarred by war and betrayal. Known for his cold restraint, he wears a pristine ceremonial neck-cloth—loosening the knot by exactly one inch only when his lethal wolf, raw lust, or dangerous possessiveness takes control. Believing Aya is a scheming spy sent to ste

in an instant, the almost invincible Mutated Dog is not moving anymore! its skull was bash hard and there is a visible crack appeared there "ha... ha... we won?"- Jimboy "ye-yes!"- Raymart "Haaaaa!! I thought it was still alive! "nice buffs John Carl!"- Phil Phil gives me thumbs up and smile "let's loot the Mutated Dog"- Bobby but before Uncle Bobby nears to the Mutated Dog, a Large Serpent arrive! from its body its 12ft long! it has 2 small horn its body was purple with the glitter of its hard scale

None of them are laughing now. I get to the overturned table just as Fraser manages to drag his top half out from under it. He’s contorted, trying to shove himself free, and at the same time, twisting his neck so it’s bared. And then, from a far corner, a toothless silver wolf bounds onto the top of the table and bays at the ceiling, using his slight weight to keep Fraser and Hamish pinned. There’s a quilt tangled in his paws. I stop in my tracks, the sight somehow calming the rage inside me. “All right, Granddad,” I say.

The heavy table at the room’s center is pitted and scarred, its surface gouged by the claws of generations, a mute witness to the blood and arguments spilled atop it. Rowan stands alone at one end of the table, arms folded across his chest. He looks every inch the Alpha in the firelight—broad-shouldered, scars thrown into sharp relief—but I see the tautness in his jaw, the careful way he breathes. He is surrounded, and he knows it.

How big is this place? Then we step into what looks like an observation room or office. There are desks strewn with papers everywhere, a small conference table in the middle, and four observation windows, which I assume are one-way mirrors because I can see into all four rooms. Inside the one furthest to the left is a massive black wolf. He’s lying on his stomach, his head resting on his paws, his muzzle turned into the corner, ignoring everything. There’s a slab of what looks like deer on the other side, untouched. Jasper, King James, Gamma Greyson, several warriors, and two people in white coats are sitting around the table.

I had to stay quiet. “T-That’s Zenor’s table over there…” the slave girl beside me said in a hushed, uneasy tone. We both paused in our steps as she pointed toward one of the tables farther into the room. I followed her gesture with my eyes and immediately, my attention locked onto the scene before me. A large table where three men sat. Or rather, three beasts disguised in human form. “He’s the one with no shirt on… the one with the ‘X’ shaped scar on his chest,” she added, her voice trembling slightly.

There was a separate room large enough to hold a crowd, but those who came together stuck together. Chunks of raw bite sized meat was on a long table for the wolves, and champagne glasses with blood for the vampires. Tala stood watching this entire affair, in all her chaotic life she never saw this level of perfect considering the lot of them here are all monsters in their own way, she blinked and looked at another table, there atleast where normal food for the wizards and sorceresses.

"It looks like it, but the man I see through the window doesn't look like the same guy." "Maybe the other guy is in the bathroom," another replies. "Seems we have the element of surprise since he hasn't turned to..." Whoever was speaking got cut off. Unfortunately for him, it is actually us that has the element of surprise. The speaker had been shot through the head with an arrow heavily drenched in Wolvesbane. We came heavily armed because it will take a lot to destroy the silverhaired mutants. One of them runs down the alley. Whitney, the cook, and I are crouched down beside the dumpster. I place my finger on my lips, once again, urging them to stay quiet.

As we opened the door to the suite I had been attacked in, my mouth clicked shut. This had to be the right room—I still had the note crumpled in my hands. The entire room was spotless. Even my vomit was gone, the carpet clean and white. “That’s not possible, it’s only been ten minutes.” I scoffed, unable to believe the scene before me. There was magic and then there was this. It brought an uncomfortable question to mind. If Marcus Novak kept white wolves as slaves, did the other High Table members do the same?

When he opened it, he shockingly saw the aggressive creatures of a werewolf and a hybrid standing on each side of the table, ready to rip each other apart. The roar came suddenly, and Everest quickly shut the door. He held and covered his ears to protect himself from Taggart's immense roar and power. He intimidated Damian, who had the pure blood of a werewolf. Their beasts had so many differences. Although Damian had a more sophisticated look than Taggart, Taggart had more power.