Scourge X Ashfur Novels & Stories

Then it shifted and this time Katrina was walking into the pack house with a wide smile that lit her whole face, the kind she saved for when she knew eyes were on her, her teeth perfect and white, her eyes sparkling with victory, while I was walking out, my own face probably drawn from another day of decisions that kept me up at night, my shoulders carrying the pack's worries, and then the world stopped the moment I met her eyes *mate*, my wolf growled in my head with a force that made my knees weak, the word booming like thunder in my chest, and I embraced her without hesitation, my arms pulling her close, her body soft against mine, her scent wrapping around me like it belonged there, her

I heard his cousin say. Asher groaned. "Get back, Ralph. Don't follow me.” Ralph smirked. “Why? You wanna go make out with your girlfriend?" Oh shit. I guess he must really be a pain in the ass for Asher. "Hey, watch it, man!” Asher snapped and Ralph laughed. "Just kidding, okay? And I'm coming with you. Like it or not.” I think the major difference between both guys was their hair. While Asher had long dark hair, Ralph's was a brown textured crop with a clean taper fade on the sides and back. Lord, the dude was so fine.

Hope flickers across his face. He shifts his stance slightly, preparing to fire again. That is his mistake. Rage replaces pain so abruptly that it almost feels like relief, something violent and feral igniting inside my chest, overriding the poison, overriding the weakness, overriding the part of me that knows I should not survive this. My claws extend fully, bone pushing through skin with a sharp, violent shift, the transformation incomplete but more than enough to remind him that wolves do not die quietly. I lunge. The world narrows to impact.

Her clothes were torn and there were claw marks and bite wounds all over her, the worst of which was a claw mark that traveled from her left collarbone to her right hip. Luckily it didn’t appear too deep, and someone had soaked it with a herb poultice, as if to help it heal. " I will help you." Scar said as she muttered some words placing her hand on the wound , she looked at it but her chants weren't doing justice. She repeated again and again before Hazel told her to stop

I felt the horrifying warmth of my own blood begin to trickle down my arm. Gritting my teeth against a wave of nausea, I launched a blast of energy, but the Scourge sidestepped it with fluid ease. I tried again, only for it to dodge with the same eerie grace. It was toying with me. Desperate, I changed tactics. I abandoned singular blasts and imagined my mana crackling and alive, superheating it into raw, untamed lightning. The chaotic energy erupted from me in a brilliant web, striking at the Scourge from all sides. It recoiled with a piercing, silent shriek that I felt in my bones.

But it was her. I gently turned her right arm and ran my fingers along the pale scars. They stood out against her light skin, raised lines, like tiny ridges in soft clay, weaving and crossing, vanishing into the surface. She’d reopened them again and again, tearing out stitches or starting fresh. She had hidden it well, but once upon a time, we had shared that secret. “Need another look?” Raphael’s voice broke the silence. “Yes,” I said, my voice betraying me. It shook.

She had noticed that he seemed a little moved when she looked at him with her blue eyes, as though they were puppy eyes so she decided to test one last method on him. Rafe had excused himself to use the bathroom, while there, he heard the sound of a dog whimpering. He wasn't sure what it was so he decided to go about his business but when he came back, he couldn't find Snow anymore. He heard a noise behind him and spun around to find a bright white werewolf with blue eyes standing at the corner of the room, on a furry white carpet. Her fur glowed in the moonlight, making her look like a spirit of the night.

From that sound alone, I knew there were five people here. I closed my eyes again and focused on the scents, realizing my mate's scents hadn't changed. Perseus still smelled like a living, vibrant forest, with intense notes of wild pine, apple trees, and resin, all touched with aged leather soaked in amber and oak moss. Achilles carried the scent of oak moss, blended with orange blossom, and in the background came a trace of sandalwood. But when I breathed deeper, I caught something different, something sour, unpleasant, and I sighed, understanding why: the curse was on him. I just didn’t know exactly how yet.

Just then, a small head peeked through the suffocating smoke. “Madam, do you need any help?” someone asked timidly. I forced my eyes open and saw a young boy who was about the same age as my son. He was covered in ash and dirt, but his eyes shone brightly through the smoke. He was so small in size, yet he managed to muster the strength to help me up. Then, together, we slowly made our way outside. The path to the outside was incredibly challenging, and I felt like giving up several times.

I grinned as I let my true scent sniff by the last were-rogue. I can tell she’s a girl due to her stand, her size smaller than them, and her voice. She sniffs the air and closes her almost dilated red eyes while drooling sticky saliva. “Playtime…” I coldly said as I get one of my personalized sterling silver daggers. Its handle design with ancient carves with a black diamond rune at the center. While the silver blade has a small skull with the letter “D” on its forehead. It’s my signature as a well-known werewolf hunter feared by them.