Prowl Beast Wars Novels & Stories

Lowell allowed himself a faint smile, this war was about to become a game of skill and patience. The battle erupted around them with a feral intensity. Tormund's warriors arrived, some shifting mid-stride, others remaining human but swinging weapons with lethal precision. Lycan beasts launched themselves into the fray, tearing off rogue heads, cracking bones, and scattering enemies like leaves in a storm. Lowell paused as a rogue lunged at him, but he caught it by the neck and snapped it with terrifying ease. Lowell then looked back at Derick, who was watching in awe.

They both then tore at each other as blood continued pooling around and on their bodies, the two half-wolves tearing mouthfuls of fur off the other in a fit of rage. I just lifted my phone and coldly recorded everything on video like I was watching a circus performance. "Alright, keep going at it, you both. I'll give whoever wins a merciful death!" There was a sudden loud crash, and the floor-to-ceiling windows in the villas shattered, sending shards of glass flying everywhere. Then, a team of fully armed police officers rushed in, pointing the dark muzzles of their guns inside. Right after that, several men in black trench coats walked in, carrying long swords made of silver and specially-m

His grip was firm, but not too tight. “You don’t smell like someone who is lying “ he said. “I’m too tired to make things up “ I replied. For a moment, I thought I saw something like anger on his face. It wasn’t directed at me. Behind us, I heard distant howling The fighters. They had arrived at the border. One of Derek’s fighters turned around. “The leader Blood Moon wolves are coming.” Derek didn’t let go of me. “How many are they?” “Five. More are, behind them.”

“We have received a missive from the King of Wolves.” My father began, each word precise, as my siblings and I stood before him in his library. “He has decreed that one of my beloved daughters is to wed the Beast of Northshore.” A sharp collective intake of breath followed his words. My own breath caught in my throat as I remembered all the whispered rumors I'd heard about the Beast of Northshore. They said he was one of the three princes who had gone feral during the war, brought back by magic or sheer will, but never quite the same afterward.

Of course Christopher Henry Jameson—also known as Beast- wasn't the average man. He stood 6'5" and weighed three hundred and two pounds. He didn't like the extra three pounds. He rather liked being in the two hundred weight range even if it was by just one or two pounds. Regardless, there wasn't an ounce of fat on his perfect body. Beast was muscles on top of muscles, yet not hulking like some of the others that worked in the Marine Corps division assigned to The Department of Home Land Security, or better known as DHS. Too big made you slow. He'd seen guys bigger than him hospitalized during the CRUCIBLE training.

Good job, Alejandro. The source of the growl is now seen, a beast larger than any werewolf to ever exist. It's fur is pearly white, it's eyes glowing. It moves with a fluid grace, its claws clicking against the ground as it looks around at everyone, as though searching for someone in particular. Everyone waits for Titus' command, swinging their knives uncertainly. At a particularly loud growl from the beast, panic washes through the camp, men screaming and scattering. The beast moves with terrifying speed, its eyes fixed on a group of warriors who have foolishly tried to stand their ground.

The sweet-spicy scent of an omega blooming into heat tickled my nose, and I paused mid-punch. Fuck. There weren’t many omegas, and the alpha wolf in me craved this one already. I grabbed the purse, removed the cash from my wallet, and stuffed it inside. Then I looked for someplace safe, like a store with security cameras or a police station, and ran across the street to a 24-hour gym. I wanted the woman with the kids to get her money back and a bit extra for having to deal with a purse snatcher. Inside, transcendental non-Western music of some kind played over the speakers. Guess it had helped drown out the thief’s screams.

There was no response. While on the field, Dom and Elijah were having a hard time against the beast. Y seemed to have upgraded and made some special modifications. The beast was more ferocious and more dangerous. It had bitten into Elijah's wing, and sent him spiraling down into the plains below where the werewolves and vampires were fighting against Y's pawns. The ammunition in the guns was reloaded. The new shots were ready to be fired. Waai gave permission and this time, one by one, werewolves began to die.

Wolves leapt, fangs bared, claws extended, colliding with their enemies in a brutal dance of death. She tightened her grip on the twin daggers in her hands. And then she ran. Reed was beside her, his own blades drawn, his presence unwavering. Asher, Callum, and Malcolm had shifted, their massive wolves tearing through enemy lines as they led their respective battalions into war. The battlefield swallowed them whole. The Clash of Titans Blood sprayed as Lila ripped through an enemy wolf, her dark-furred beast a shadow of death in the moonlight. She tore her opponent’s throat open, the gurgling cry lost in the chorus of war.

I howl repeatedly, and I bet even the heavens have sighed in defeat. "And don't think of doing anything stupid. By the time you pull that trigger, I will have fed this damn thing two bullets already. Let's see if your weakling whore will bear it in her conscience." The monster howls in victory. At this point, Deep has no option than to surrender. He drops his gun to the floor, and the monster discharges a triumphant loud annoying howl. "Good, boy!" He mocks, turning to me, but keeping an eye on Deep still. "Now come to me, baby!" Ho orders me in his monster-soothing tone. He has turned into a complete varmint.