Stronger After Being Killed Novels & Stories

“He could have been dead. Five-year-old predator to a predator of over sixty years old? How does that even work?” “Yeah, but he didn't die.” She gave me a slight smile. “That's why he is the strongest because the battle did not last for up to a minute before he killed his father. And it's a cycle, you should know that. A vicious cycle in the line of predators.” “Hmmm…" I sighed deeply at that. “Yeah, every son killed their fathers, and if they were ever more than two children, they would fight themselves to the death until the strongest would come out top.”

They were snarling and howling, glad that I had finally succumbed. But then when I regained my energy, I still acted like though I was weak. The one who was going to come close to me to kill me by drawing his claws across my neck as I had killed them, came closer and I permitted him to almost get to him before I flipped him over, kicking others away, standing tall and powerful.

In the aftermath of the battle, the pack mourned the losses they had suffered. They held a solemn ceremony to honor the fallen, their hearts heavy with the weight of their sacrifice. Alpha Zavier, his voice filled with reverence, spoke words of remembrance and gratitude for the fallen warriors who had given their lives to preserve the balance. The pack focused on healing, both physically and emotionally. They tended to their wounds, sought solace in each other's presence, and found strength in their shared experiences. The bonds that held them together grew stronger, forged by the crucible of battle.

I had no idea what or where I found so much courage from but I utilized it and squared up to Cicero. “I’m not so stupid. If I really wanted to kill him, I would find a less obvious way to do it!” My voice quietened to a low, “Say whatever you want about me or my mother but I’m not a murderer. And the last person I would think to harm would be my mate. Not when I’ll die too.” I would die. And I said that without a single iota of doubt because of what it was. A fact. Everyone knew that once an Alpha’s mate died, they would follow suit. My Father had been able to escape death because he was a gamma. Unlike an Alpha, my mother's death did not weaken him and he had been able to just move on with

Two down. The last remaining wolf, who is the best fighter of the three, readies himself for another round. He doesn’t show any signs of lost confidence, even after I easily killed his two comrades. As a younger wolf, I envisioned myself growing up to be a ruthless warrior- killing for the enjoyment of being the stronger wolf. After engaging in my first battle and witnessing death, my thoughts changed. Killing became a necessity. The first life I took, it happened so quickly. I reacted on pure instinct; my training and strength led to victory over the other wolf. I remember seeing the wolf’s eyes fade, his bright green eyes becoming a dull in color. That is what stays with me. The slow dimmi

“It is a promise I made to myself. I will grow stronger and I will butcher him like a dog, more gruesome than he butchered my parents. Do you still want me to survive?” He shrugs. “When you grow up and grow stronger, you can give it a try. Many have tried and failed, perhaps you’ll join the statistics, or perhaps you’ll succeed. The strong kill the weak. That is why Reenan killed your father. When you grow up and you grow stronger than Reenan, you may try killing him. It is nature. But first you must survive. Are you ready to?” I swipe at the tears with the back of my hand and nod. “I am ready.”

When he finally looks down at the blood mess of flesh, there’s no great feeling. We feel hollow, we feel a sense of relief and finality, but not proud. The Harley of a month ago, maybe even a week ago would puff out his chest, and strut around the body of our enemy. That Harley would probably go find his crown and wear it. If you kill a King, are you now King? In a pack that’s how it works. Anyone who has the balls enough to kill an Alpha must really want to be Alpha. Jaxson pants, and tries to find the scent of our mate again. But there’s only blood.

“Oh but you won’t have a choice my dear this time your mate can’t save you.” I don’t know if Gunner has accomplished his part of the plan, but I refuse to allow him to take me away again. I take my hidden dagger and plunge it into his side. What shocks me the most is that the minute the dagger pierces his skin there is no blood and he doesn’t appear fazed at all. “This body is long dead my dear. You cannot hurt me.” This is unexpected. We thought we could kill him despite overtaking this body but we were wrong. Has he gotten stronger in his spell since his last body?

When I asked why she was crying, she told me her daughter was beaten to death, and she knew exactly who had done it. However, because that family was rich, ordinary people like her couldn’t do a thing. That girl’s killer was Mira. So the moment I came back in this life, I started investigating Mira’s bullying, hoping I could save that woman’s daughter this time. As the police examined the evidence, Mira suddenly slipped out through a window when nobody was watching. The officers moved to chase her down, but Cody threw himself in front of them, blocking their way. It only bought her ten seconds, but that was enough for Mira to get away.

Kyle strutted down Route 9, feeling reborn, stronger than ever, as he relived in his mind’s eye again and again his killing of those police officers. Nothing gave him more joy. He would kill more if he could. Kyle made a fist, flexed his muscles, and he couldn’t understand where his newfound strength came from. He felt blood pumping through his veins at an insane rate, as if he had received ten blood infusions. As he bounced along the road, he felt like a boy of eighteen, invincible, ready to take on the world. He couldn’t believe how much energy he had to his step; he felt like he was ready to party all night long.