Slash Fiction Novels & Stories

Claire had her handgun poised at the Spiritwalker right in front of the desk. But handguns can't kill Spiritwalkers. They just injure them enough so they get angry. The shadow screeched and rushed over with celerity, leaving a gust of wind behind. I fumbled to grab my shotgun. Another 'bang' followed. 'Bang. Bang. Bang.' I looked up just in time to see the Spirit crash into Claire. She flew back into the door with a supernatural speed and slumped over onto the floor. Blake stood over her and then dropped suddenly, landing right on top of her crumpled body at his feet.

*"I don't have to. You'll name yourself when the venom burns through what's left of your humanity." A sandstorm erupts, swallowing her form. When it clears, the desert is gone. --- **The Shattered City** We stand on a bridge of frozen lightning, arcing over a chasm where realities bleed into one another. Below, a city pulses-a tumorous growth of spires and flesh, its streets alive with creatures that are neither human nor wolf nor storm. They scuttle and writhe, their forms glitching between solid and spectral. The air reeks of ozone and rotting roses.

Blood of Wolf. The darkness inside the fracture shifted. And for one terrible second, something looked back

If they had known, they would have run by now. Suddenly, a surge of sword-skill came. Before they knew it, the shimmer of a sword flashed before them, followed by Zephyr’s sudden appearance. “Fourth Slash!” he said quietly. Blade after blade appeared around them, powered by Zephyr’s Lightfoot. With a disgusting, loud crack, and a spray of fresh blood, two of the Sun fighters were cut limb from limb. “Die!” One of them yelled, angered by the death of their comrade. “Fifth Slash!” Zephyr cried, he vanished and reappeared out of thin air in front of the man. “Not this time!” the man yelled, he reached out for Zephyr with his tiger-like claw attacks.

Pain shot through every part of her body. The bond severing had been violent. Traumatic. It felt like someone had reached inside her chest and ripped out part of her soul. Because that's exactly what they'd done. Without a pack bond, she was vulnerable. Weak. Powerless. Just another rogue wolf that any pack could kill on sight. That any rogue could attack without consequences. That the world could swallow up without anyone caring or noticing. Lyra forced herself to stand. Her legs shook. Her vision blurred. Black spots danced at the edges. But she stayed upright through sheer stubbornness.

I saw her as my sister, as part of the family, but she stabbed me in the back. I stood up angrily as my thoughts kept flying back to that painful past that I needed to forget at all costs. I went into the kitchen and made myself a cup of coffee that I wanted to sip quietly on the patio, then I had to take it easy and start the new book. It was hard because I only had painful ideas that weren’t very popular with the public.

Lillie Damon stared out the window of her cabin. The lightning in the midnight sky illuminated the forest on Slaughter Hill. Wind hissed through the forests. Thunder rang with a loud explosion that echoed for miles. She was determined it was a suitable midnight to cast a spell upon her suitor Paul. She went into the shower. Lying down on the counter was a comb that Paul used to comb his hair. Lillie picked up the hair from his comb. Lillie stepped onto the back deck and cleaned the soil off the underside of his loafers. She continued into the backyard and ignited a picture of him and picked up the ashes. She was squatting on the floor with torches all around her. The gleam of the torches pro

Hope feels Sera's strength bolstering her shields, feels her grandmother's Luna magic reinforcing the connection, feels love transcending death to save someone they both cared about. You're not alone, Sera's presence seems to whisper. You've never been alone. Hope draws on that strength. Holds the connection steady. Blocks the Blight while channeling healing energy through pack bonds strengthened by Sera's residual magic. The ritual intensifies. Lux's chanting grows louder. The heartstone shard burns brighter. And then, with a sound like breaking glass, the Blight shatters. Hope feels it die—the disease purged from Dante's wolf spirit, destroyed by combined Luna magic, pack bonds, and desper

Film coated my mouth and bile rose in my throat at the thought of my brother turning out to be as cold as my father… “Aurora, what are you doing out here?” I glanced up suddenly torn from my bitter thoughts, and breathed a sigh of relief seeing my best friend Cami headed in my direction. “It’s too hot to be out here when I look this good.” I chuckled, taking in her appearance, her hair was so blonde it was almost a blinding white- but her skin was a golden bronze. She was tall and muscular just adding to her already striking appearance. “Just taking in the scenery since in a few hours my entire life will change.” I fiddled with the hem on my plain white t-shirt. Tonight at midnight, I would

And then, silence. A scream shattered the dusk. Not Ridge. Not Luna. Something inhuman. They came from the trees—figures cloaked in rot and shadows, twisted armor etched with claws and blood-writ glyphs. Hollow pack. Their stench struck first—metal turned sour, flesh long spoiled. Trisha moved before command was called. Her axe unslung in one motion, she veered left into the shadows where screams grew sharper. Serin roared, “West line! Fall to the crest!” even as Ridge archers loosed arrows overhead.