The Antagonist Pet Novels & Stories

Percival clawed his way to his current position, getting his hands dirty with all sorts of shady business along the way. He's not a good person - he'll do whatever it takes to get what he wants. He's petty and holds grudges like nobody's business. When he's out to get someone, he won't let up until they're totally destroyed. He's like a honey badger - even with blood pouring down his face, he'll keep fighting till his opponent's down for the count. He's full of aggression and isn't afraid of anyone.

"A kennel bitch, a pet. She's not worthy of your bed, let alone your name." The word "pet" stung worse than any whip. It was a word that took away everything I was, everything I had ever hoped to be. It was a word that made me less than human, less than nothing. Caelan stepped into the torchlight. He was a force of nature, a thing of muscle and cruelty. He strode toward me, his golden eyes fixed on my face, and I felt a shiver of pure terror. He stopped in front of me, so close I could feel the heat radiating from his body. His hand, as big as my head, closed around my neck, and he lifted my head to meet his eyes.

And at the edge of a ruined stone arch, standing atop the horn of a fallen golem, was Anton the Ant—no taller than a boot, wearing a silver-plated helmet the size of a thimble, his voice magically amplified. “CHOKE POINT THE LEFT!” he screamed, pointing his tiny spear at a narrow ridge. “MOVE, YOU FUR COUCHES! THE ENEMY’S DUMBER THAN YOU, NOT SLOWER! GET YOUR TAILS IN FORMATION!” “Are you still alive, you miserable bug?” I growled across the mind-link, slamming a corrupted chimera into a shattered wall. “Alive, commanding, and still prettier than you, mutt!” he snapped. I grinned. Or… well, as much as a blood-soaked wolf mid-fight can grin.

She opens it with a bright, fake smile. Then she freezes. Standing in our doorway is Beta Antonio. The second most powerful wolf in the pack. He has the height of a warrior, with sandy hair pulled back tightly and an expression carved from stone. His eyes sweep the room and land on me instantly. My stomach drops. “Good morning,” he says coldly. “I am here on orders from Alpha Damon.” My aunt beams like she’s won something. “Yes! Yes, please come in,” she gushes. Antonio doesn’t step inside. He simply looks at me again.

I gripped the dagger tighter, my knuckles turning white. “Let me in, Bee,” he murmured. I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. His eyes darkened, his smirk fading. “We need to talk.” The bond pulsed between us, making my body betray me with a pull toward him. I clenched my teeth, fighting it. I would not be his. I lifted the dagger, pointing it at him through the glass. “Go to hell.” His smirk returned, but there was something else in his eyes now. Something unreadable.

She was kept locked in the dungeons the whole night and she wasn’t given any food or a sip of water either. The mistress faced Fiona as she gazed at her with venom. It was obvious she hated Fiona to the core. If it was up to her, she would've already sent her to the slaughterhouse and requested the butcher to give Fiona a painful death but the pet Mistress just has one role and that was to train these pets to be submissive little puppies and kittens but unfortunately, Fiona turned out to be a tough nut to crack. Not only the mistress and Patrick, but everyone else also hates her. Even human pets too. Why? Just because she wants to fight for her freedom. She refused to succumb to these monste

Well, I'm not bragging but when it comes to good looks his shithead is nothing compared to my ass, I mean how much more if it was my face as a basis of comparison? I don't know what it is but for some reason, I felt a sense of responsibility to the poor innocent lives, so I snap my fingers and summon my hellhounds. They are my loyal pets. They have this mangled black fur, glowing red eyes, super strength and speed, and ghostly or phantom characteristics. Pretty cool isn’t it? With a simple snap of fingers and a distinct whistle, they instantly come to me and for more than a century of having them as my pet, just now I realized that they all have a foul odor, so disgusting I can't bear to get

“Then why are you so hesitant to tell me?” Kate looked away from his deep brown eyes that she thought was going to swallow her any minute from now as she thought of an excuse to make. “I was thinking of a pet I had back home” The pet she was talking about was her cute white furry dog, fluffy. Whenever things was hard for her back there at the club, fluffy would always come and comfort her rubbing her head against the length of her legs. This was the first time since she’d escaped that she thought back to that hell hole she’d ran away from. Now that she thought about it, John was so much like fluffy.

But I couldn't ignore the political consequences of my rejection. Antonio's voice softened, his words tinged with empathy. "Consider this, Sir: You have the power to redefine what it means to have a pet. You can choose to be different, show compassion, and provide a more enlightened existence for your pet. It is a delicate balance between tradition and progress, but by doing so, you would secure our pack's position and ensure the peace we so desperately need," As Antonio finished presenting his argument, his words hanging in the air, I felt a surge of defiance welling up within me. His proposal, though logical from a political standpoint, clashed with the very core of my being.

She may be Alejandro’s daughter, but I was also a Rossi. “This pack is used to hell, kid, so do your fucking worst.” I replied mockingly. She’s about to reply when the cat drew our attention away, meowing loudly and she holds it right up in my fucking face. “Oh and this is Malevolent. Say hi.” I cocked a brow. “I don’t talk to animals,” I said arrogantly. Her smirk vanished, her eyes flashing a deep plum red, and I frowned, my own eyes blazing as I observed her sharply.