Noble Beast Machines Novels & Stories

It looked like a trapped storm. This was the source of the Council’s power. They had figured out how to distill the "Beast" energy from the Thorne blood and put it into a machine. It was a crime against nature. "Target identified," a voice said behind me. I turned. A man in a gold-trimmed uniform was standing on the platform. He didn't have armor, but his eyes were a bright, artificial red. He was one of the Elders’ personal guards—a man who had been "enhanced" by the machines.

POV EMMA BELLE The harbor was a graveyard of broken dreams and twisted metal. Malakai hadn't just brought ships; he had brought an industrial nightmare. From the bowels of the Dreadnought, a new horror had been unleashed: the Iron-Hollows. They were humanoid machines of brass and riveted steel, but they didn't run on coal. Their chest cavities glowed with a sickly, captive violet light—the siphoned essences of shifters who had been captured in the Western Isles.

"Let's go. Never seen that kind of performance before." … When I arrived at the center, I realized my life had been dull until this moment. The center, like its name suggested, was filled with all kinds of beastfolk. Adorable rabbits, seductive foxes, imposing wolf-dogs, outgoing and cheerful puppies, and more. This was heaven. The beastfolk were performing on the stage with all they had, showing off their charm as best as they could. The performer with the highest votes would be crowned Best Beastfolk Star, and they'd be awarded with a handsome amount of prize money.

Ronan didn’t hesitate. His body cracked and bent, the shift overtaking him in one fluid, violent motion. His skin split open like a second birth, revealing the beast beneath—taller than any normal wolf, monstrous and terrifying with fur black as midnight, hooked claws, demon horns, and glowing eyes that promised death. His roar shattered the forest. The first rogue sprinted straight at him, thinking brute force would be enough. It wasn’t. Ronan met him mid-leap, caught his skull between his jaws, and crushed it like an overripe melon. Blood sprayed across the snow in a thick arc as he tossed the corpse aside with a flick of his neck.

Nuel pleaded, rattling his chains. A sharp whirring broke out as the machine turned on. The lights turned green and red indicating it was stable. The tubes pulsed as though something alive moved within them. Earis’s chest jerked violently, heaving as the machine dragged the breath from her lungs. My grip on her hand tightened. Across from her, Celeste’s body arched, her own chest rising with each stolen inhale, as if her life was being force-fed into her. The loud sound of the machine drowned out Nuel's voice even though I could still hear him beg.

he growled in my mind. Of course, he takes pleasure in killing my amusement. Beneath the clouds sat a town unlike any I’d seen. Strange machines crawled through it—tall, thin, metallic things curled on most buildings. That had to be Blackmaw. I slid off his back as he shifted, rising tall and bare. Sunlight poured over him, sharpening every line of muscle and scar. As much as I hated his psychotic behavior, I couldn’t deny it—like Asher, he was painfully breathtaking.

When Nokita moves the sub farther down, we can see the electronic devices with a red blinking light attached to each weight. "They're going to release the hellhounds electronically," I say. "This is why they sabotaged the whistles." Rage boils inside me and K-5 spikes. I inhale sharply and hold Ms. Beast back. She's angry and I can't catch my breath. It feels like she's taking a sledgehammer to my gut.

Still yet, Samson still had a lot of things to worry about. There in Boneridge, where his Industrial Empire who's sole purpose is brandishing mechanical bots. These bots weren't any type of bots but of the SpellTech type, who's engine is cladded with heavy thick alloid. Powerful generator and super ultra current tapped directly from.space. There were times these Machines or their system generator needs a super intelligent brains to handle the programming, elocation, techniques and most importantly, intelligence. And Samson would have to go.

David said what she paid for them was equivalent to one billion dollars in Earth currency. I was eager to join them, but Dr. Brooks advised me to rest instead. Fortunately, Niklaus video-called me and gave me a virtual tour, showing me all the exciting things they were doing. I even got to shop remotely, picking out some beautiful new dresses. We all received high-tech laptops powered by innovative crystals that harnessed energy from solar UV rays. The kids were thrilled with their new game consoles, complete with special adapters for our world, and Niklaus helped them choose some games that he thought they'd really enjoy. Oliver was delighted with his new Hoover board. Meanwhile, Lucas, Bre

"Exiled purebloods, rogues from the fringes who refused to swear the oath. They are gathering in the northern wastes under Brielle’s banner. Two hours ago, they hit our primary supply caravan at the base of the white ridge. They didn't just use teeth, my Queen. They brought machines." ​Beside the throne, Clyde shifts his weight. The movement is slight, but the sheer volume of his shadow-energy rolls across the dais like a localized thunderstorm, making the flames in the stone hearths bow and flicker. His arms cross over his massive, scarred chest, his golden eyes narrowing into two dangerous slits of liquid amber. ​"What kind of machines?" Clyde demands, his voice a low, subterranean rumble