Venom Lasher の小説・ストーリー

“Tell me what?” “I came in contact with a snake shifter…a venomoon. The night of the battle, it seems Jake had ordered her to help him win. She’d poisoned me, the poison was so f*cking strong that I couldn’t even move. I saw her then; deep, tanned skin with snake patterns running through the center of her face. Her eyes were narrow and dark…her lipstick had been the same. She stood out in the crowd; unique. She wants an alliance, her people must’ve gone into hiding after it was rumored that they became extinct.”

“I don’t want any of you who are carrying a pup to be anywhere near this fight.” “Tough shit,” Leneve says, uncorking the little vile and downing the substance. Making a weird face as she swallows. “Gross.” She stuck her tongue out as if the substance was sour, one eye closing as she let the taste settle. “I am a hunter by nature. Lycan by birth and cursed by the sorceress under the moon. The hellhounds don’t affect me, I can control the nightmare horses and I can fight. I will stand with my mate and fight beside the Queen and King of shifters.”

“Be on guard. Slither tracks mark the area, and these aren’t small reptiles. The odors and dried skins come from mutant Serpentes. They won’t be friendly.” “Time to get you back among your kin,” Jamison said. “Why? Am I not safe with you?” A wink followed Adlartok’s playful tone. “There’s protection in numbers,” Jamison said. He liked the foreplay, but now wasn’t the time. — Sixty feet long vipers genetically bonded with constrictors and integrated with mechanical technology lunged out of the ground like splashes of water gushing out of boiling pots. They focused on the originals but didn’t hesitate to slap down, bite, or crush any hanumans that blocked their path. Cupun popped off pistol sh

I shouted. "J- j- jag -" It got worst. "Jaguar?" I asked raising my eyebrowhis He tried to nod. He tried to lift his hand. Then demonstrated three with his fingers. "No, no, no." I was able to fathom what he meant. There are three people responsible for the poisoning that happened to him. It includes Jaguar. Then who are the other two person? "Elder Jaguar?" Damien questioned. I knew he was fuming with anger. I tried to held my temper in.

his sister suddenly mumbled, her head lowered. Venom turned to look at her, then I saw it. Right there on his neck, was the same tattoo I'd seen on Keegan and Andrea. I knew it at once. He was a shadow assassin.

Black lines spread from the wound, crawling up his neck, down his arm, toward his heart. Theron roared. His wolf form exploded from his skin, fur and fangs and fury. He launched himself at Lorna, at the shadow wearing her face, his jaws snapping. The shadow sidestepped, moving with inhuman speed, and drove its claws into Theron's flank. He yelped, crashing into the wall, but did not shift back. He rose again, bleeding, and lunged again. Lysander was at my side, the dagger from the chest in his hand. Its blade was dark—the light had not returned since the ritual. But he held it like a promise.

Half Lycan, half werewolf. A leash disguised as a crown. A way to chain the last Lycan Enforcer to their throne, to breed me like livestock until my blood was diluted and my line was theirs and Lycans were just a story old wolves told to frighten pups. I looked at Armea. She was beautiful in the way a dagger was beautiful , crafted to cut, cold to the touch, deadly if mishandled and empty if not wielded. Her eyes promised power and politics, Not partnership.

he leaned forward so only Luthor could hear, ".If I might offer you my two cents, boss, it'd be a good thing to keep Mason as far down in the pecking order as possible. He's dominant as all get out, but something is out of whack in the kid's head." Luthor pushed through the pack, not even breaking stride to reply, and saw Jackson, Jamie, and Bladina on one flank, and a younger wolf, Mason, on the other. Bladina was a disaster, corroborating Sharon's story of snakebite earlier, and clinging to Jamie as if her life depended on it. However, she was clearly enraged, and when she bared her teeth, Luthor could perceive that her canines were excessively long—her wolf was dancing on the rim of being

“You’re a comfort, Vincent.” The music swelled. Lila watched Asher Voss stumble through a waltz with Vera Blackthorn, the she-wolf’s crimson nails digging into his neck. “Bet they’ll name their firstborn ‘Obnoxious,’” Vincent muttered. Lila didn’t laugh. Asher moved like caged lightning, all coiled rage and sharp angles. She’d seen him once after a border skirmish, shirtless and bloodied, roaring at the moon—a primal thing that made her wolf stir uneasily.

“It’s not oil, princess. It’s high-octane fuel. And trust me, I have much more creative things in mind for your body than dumping it.” “Oh? Is that a promise or a threat? Because if it’s a promise, I need to know if I should fix my hair,” Lila shot back, her eyes sparkling with that unpredictable fire that made Asher want to either kiss her or lock her in a room so the world couldn't touch her. Or both. Preferably both. “Asher, what the hell is this?” The voice came from the shadows. Snake, a guy with more tattoos than skin, stepped forward, flanked by two other Reapers. They looked Lila up and down with the kind of skepticism usually reserved for a vegan at a steakhouse.