Protective Instincts Novels & Stories

Unaware of their approach, my defensive instincts kick in, my muscles tensing as I prepare to pounce on the intruders. My feral instincts take over, my body coiled like a tightly wound spring, ready to unleash its power. Every fiber of my being is focused on the imminent strike, my senses honed to detect any movement or sound. Just as I am about to unleash my attack, a pair of arms suddenly wrap around me, their grip firm and unyielding. Surprised, I let out a yelp of surprise, my body instinctively squirming in an attempt to break free from the unexpected restraint.

he said. She stood. She was at the door when he spoke. "Elara." She turned. He was looking at her from behind his desk with the expression she had come to know as the one that meant something underneath was more than the words were going to say. "I am not trying to make you smaller. I need you to know that. The protective instinct is not about doubting your ability to handle things. It is about something else entirely." She looked at him across the study. "I know what it is about," she said quietly.

She touched his hand, "Hey ... relax ... I got this ... you're underestimating my survival skill, like you said ... animal instinct, I think it's embedded in our DNA to find a way to survive when we need it most." He nodded, not the least bit convinced. He didn't want to sound condescending, he chose not to say anything. Her instincts probably have never been exercised and polished since the day she was born. Like any caged animals in the zoo, they would have to re-learn everything once they were back to their natural habitat. Most may not even survive and had to be placed in a sanctuary instead. "Or ..." she looked at him intently. He waited for her next sentence. "You can come with me? I'l

he continues, “they are difficult.” “Together?” “They are nearly impossible.” That… Isn’t wrong. I’ve seen it. Felt it. The way they move. The way they protect. The way they respond when the other is threatened. It’s not strategy. It’s instinct. And instinct? Is hard to break unless you turn it against itself. “You want me to create conflict,” I say. “Not conflict.” “Doubt.” That’s sharper. More precise. More dangerous. “Doubt grows,” he continues.

I fucking burned with the desire to possess her in every way possible. Finally, she screamed, and it was so fucking real that my body reacted to the sound, but not in a way it usually did, not with excitement and the thrill of the hunt. There was something close to revulsion filling my body, hearing her agonized cries and imagining they were real. My hands curled to fists, my muscles tensing because a deeply buried instinct wanted me to protect her from whatever caused those screams. Unfortunately for her, nothing could protect her from me. I couldn’t fucking take it anymore. I stalked toward her, gripped her arm. “Enough,” I growled, breathing harshly.

An animal roused by evil intent, motivated by a single goal that forbade compromise or compassion. I hardly had time to realize they were going to assault me in cold blood when the first attacker leaped forward with a fierce thrust. Against these alien predators, my instincts begged me to run, seek refuge, and find support. But something deeper, more primitive in my brain realized that I would never be able to evade what was after me. Simply said, they wanted to leave no witnesses. I wouldn't be saved merely because I pretended to be ignorant, whatever covert plans had put a target on my back.

Despite my weakened state, I could see what was happening—Victoria's perfectly timed interruption, the convenient emergency just as I was about to reveal her true identity. "She keeps calling for you," Victoria continued, her voice trembling as she looked up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. "You promised to protect us both, remember? You promised you'd always be there for her." She was playing him perfectly, using his protective instincts against him. And it was working. Ethan's protective instincts visibly overrode everything else. His wolf rose to the surface, responding to the perceived threat to a pup he considered his ow

My purple glow flared, responding to my fear, to my rage, to the protective instinct roaring through me, but my wolf shrank back at the last minute, her instincts to protect the child in my stomach. I stumbled, crashing to the ground unceremoniously.

My instincts flared again , the protective, territorial pull that made me want to follow, to keep her close where no one else could scent her skin the way I did. Elena bodily shivered when a late afternoon breeze blew over us. She crossed her arms over her chest and my first instinct was to wrap up my arms around her and do everything in my power to shield her from the cold. I could feel the temperature drop before the wind even hit, the way a predator senses a shift in the air before the prey does.

She was inches from exploding. "We can't find them anymore." "What do you mean you can't find them? You just took them in to be dressed and ready for their second entrance. What on earth do you mean?" Her voice lowered into what was a dead calm. I quickly intervened when I sensed the presence of her wolf rising to the surface seething with rage. Like nature demanded, all species who passed through motherhood were fiercely protective of their offsprings. It didn't even matter what they were, as long as the mother perceived them as theirs.