Stray Dogs Book Novels & Stories

My boots sank into the muddy ground, a mix of dirt and who-knows-what, as I stumbled into the new town. My pack had a particular scent that bonds everyone together but not for a place like here. There were most huts with only a few houses built with bricks. Lanterns flickered, casting shadows that danced like ghosts, and the noise was everywhere—shouts, metal clanging, wild howls. This was no pack, no valley with rules and wolves. This was a chaotic place mixed with different kinds of abnormal wolves, and I was just another stray dog in it. I was still Rose, but the name felt like a bruise, like a stupid word to use in a place like this.

I almost withdrew them but he held them right where they were. “Can I know why you concerned?”, he asked, voice low. “Why do you care about strays who aren’t even ours?” I opened my mouth, searching for words that wouldn’t unravel everything. “Because… no one should be left alone out there. Not when winter’s closing in. Not when intruders are already sniffing around. They don’t have walls or warriors. They’re just trying to survive.” He watched me for a long moment, thumb brushing absently over my pulse point.

I looked closer and noticed it was a camera. " Yeah. Someone's definitely been here. " Walking into the building I looked around and tried to block the dust from entering my system. There wasn't much on the bottom floor but when I heard a few silent growls, I froze in my spot. Looking over my shoulder, I made eye contact with two rottweilers stalking towards me with an extremely lose piece of rope connected to their collars. They didn't look malnourished, giving me another sign that someone might be His Possession In Discretion - DISCRETION SERIES BOOK #1 - Chapter 38 (p.9 of 9)

Beyond it, a cottage with glass walls glimmered under the trees. Claire climbed down slowly, favoring her bad leg. Her cane clicked against the stone. She approached the gate and pulled the bell rope. Nothing. Again. Still nothing. She exhaled. “Master Rowan?” A narrow slot opened in the gate. A pair of gray eyes stared out. “We don’t take strays.” “I’m not a stray.” “You’re limping.” “I’m not asking for charity.” “You’re pack-born.” Claire lifted her chin. “Formerly.”

But I didn't care, I pressed on, "She hates animals. You once screamed and cried when I brought a stray dog home." "I.." she started and turned to the people who looked at her doubtfully, "Please don't listen to this woman. She's crazy!" "Am I? By all means, invite her to your animal shelter one of these days, and ask her to pet one of the animals there." "shut your mouth!" she barked, and I shrugged, sipped my wine, "We have a stray with us at the moment, will you pet it?"

STRAYS' POV - THE REAL PLANS The stray camp was hidden deep within the forest, far from the watchful eyes of the pack. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the faint rustle of leaves, the shadows of the towering trees casting a dark blanket over their camp. The strays moved silently, their bodies tense, their eyes constantly scanning their surroundings. They were always on guard, always prepared for the possibility of an attack.

Strays will target them and try to kill them. Strays....the ones I heard the three talking about the other day. From the knowledge that the moon goddess has granted me, strays are humans who have been turned to werewolves, but has defects. Humankind and the werekind are supposed to live their lives as humans or werewolves and trying to defy that fact is simply wrong. Strays have rogue-like characteristics, but they are controlled by one person. Who and why he is doing this, we absolutely have no idea and that's simply the reason why we're here.

“No, nothing. I mean, I found a stray dog, but that’s about it.” “A stray?” The way she said the words made it sound as if Gail told her she picked up a hitchhiker. “Gail, you know those animals aren’t safe. Who knows what kind of history they have. So many dogs there are scarred with trauma. They are like ticking time bombs.”

When I turn back to demand an explanation, the path behind me is empty. The driver is gone. “What the hell?” I spin around fully now, panic rising fast. “Where the fuck did you go?” No answer. Another growl sounds again, louder this time and my stomach drops when realization hits me hard enough to make me dizzy. Stray wolves. Everyone in Crescent Hollow knows the stories. Stray wolves are not friendly to humans, especially not in parts of the city like this. My hands shake as I bend down quickly, removing my heels and dropping them without a second thought.

There was a moment of joy, but even Jane knew there was work to do. "I guess we need to go see . . ." Jane couldn't bring herself to say it . . . to talk about those members of the Strays that had died the previous night. The Strays were a group of lycanthropes and humans with magical abilities (called Talents) who lived together in secret, stealing to survive but keeping the forces of darkness at bay . . . most of the time. The previous night, a group of demons called Hellspawn had come down into the Stray's underground lair (called the Den) and had attacked the Strays. A number of friends and potential friends had died defending the Den before the Hellspawn were driven back due in no small