The Foxhole Court Book Novels & Stories

Nikolai's chin is placed on Gold's shoulders as he bites the celebrity's earlobe. The sexual act itself is remarkable even though the only naked body parts are their upper extremities. Kolya is seen giving Gold a handjob in the painting, but in lieu of showing Gold's cock, it's covered with a phoenix, a mythological bird. The background of the painting is blazing fire. It can be interpreted in many ways. First off, it's related to the phoenix. Gold explains it to the people.

"Attorney at law." The words hang in the air between us—me and my reflection, me and the wolf, me and myself. They're true and false at once, a perfect summation of the life I've built on half-truths and careful omissions. I am Mara Wolfe, attorney at law. I am also something else, something that has no place in conference rooms and courthouses, something that belongs to the night and the moon and the wild. I press my fingertips to the control panel, entering the code that will release the lock. The mechanical sound of the bolt sliding back is loudly human, loudly civilized. I need that noise, need that reminder of the world waiting beyond this basement, beyond this moment of vulnerability.

"Yes. Two sets. First, I request Willie be brought to court. If I'm right, he's already here." The judge nodded. The courtroom doors creaked open. Linda burst into tears. "Willie! Mommy's finally see you!" Garrett squeezed her hand, locked on the entrance. Then a sharp bark cut through the room. A tall black German Shepherd sprinted in. The second he saw me, he dropped into a sit, tail going wild. I gave a small smile. "Everyone, meet my 'son,' Willie." The courtroom froze. The livestream went insane.

Xavier 's pov I was sitting in my office library engrossed in my work . Different cases require different references to various clauses and sectons of warewolf penal codes . My library consists of multiple books ranging from legislatures,civil law books to historic fictions. You name a book at it will be here in my library. I got up from my seat and searched through the multiple shelfes looking for the red covered book which has a case similar to the present one at my hand.

Bells jingled, and a young woman behind the counter gave me a nod before turning back to her book. I didn’t know what I was looking for. Maybe something to help me understand Aaron. Maybe a way to find a language I’d never learned—one that didn’t involve boardrooms, silence, or avoidance. In the children’s section, I ran my hand along the spines until one caught my eye. A story about a fox who had no name. Who wandered from home to home trying to remember where he belonged. Too on the nose? Probably but I bought it anyway. Back in the car, I stared at the cover for a long time. I didn’t even open it. Just held it.

I had taken out one and Oliver incapacitated another so two against four was hardly fair odds but I guess they hadn’t had a work out in a while. Come on. I looked down at the fox who was cowering underneath me still. Did they hurt you that badly? She looked up at me and turned to the side showing a few punctures in her side. Maybe she had a cracked rib or two based on where those marks were. One wolf tried rushing me and Andre took him out with a bulldoze to the side. I guess I should have started moving but I just couldn’t stop looking at her. She was so small. Why would she change into this thing?

He could feel his body being dragged all along and them being shoved inside a cramped space, that had a heavy smell of metal and iron, a possible cellar or lock up room. He had no idea how ling he was in that state. When he finally was able to open his eyes he found himself sitting in a long line, in front of them was the guillotine. The line comprised of the first fox prince, Akata, Xie, Ruby and some other loyal and senior, Fox officials. The fox could not belive what he was watching. Where was the fox king? What under the sun and moon was he witnessing. He was in the least worried about himself.

The silence felt so heavy that Camela thought her heart had stopped beating. Her scream echoed in the hospital room, but there was no response. Just the sound of her uneven breathing broke the stillness. The journal lay open on the floor, the black letters blazing like fire across the page: Final Journal. Entry Three: The fox dies first. Camela's hand glided to Vincent’s chest. His heartbeat pounded beneath her palm—alive, strong, and steady, but the words on the page seemed to sink into him, pulling at his pulse.

When I finally heard him, my blood ran cold. “Come here foxy fox. Come here, foxy fox. I wanna play some more.” Did my green eyes really give me away as the Fox, or was it a coincidence, because he seemed to like to give nicknames to the people he harassed? I sat in that tree for what seemed like forever. Besides my heartbeat, I heard nothing and saw nothing of Ezra.

It's so unnecessary, but whatever, I'll oblige his ego this once. "Looks like we didn't chase you off fully." The wolf is all jokes, huh? He chuckles like it's one, but we all know he isn't joking at all. I shrug. "I'm like a cat. I got nine lives." "Aren't you a fox though?" Misty asks. Yes, Capt. Obvious, I'm indeed a fox. My sarcastic remark is on the tip of my tongue when Maverick pierces me with a warning look. I swallow down those words regrettably. I take a deep breath like Maverick did and then I release it.