Venom Lasher Novels & Stories

Kat was able to stop the venom to get to his heart but he still wasn't healing fast enough so he was in a coma and no one could figure out how to get the venom out of his bloodstream without killing him because he was too weak. Now you remember Bertha saying that Luna and Will had a role to play, well this was where they came in, turns out about from Luna being a shifter, she was also siphon and no one knew until that day, she siphoned the magic from the venom out of Lachlan and it a tool a few days and then he finally woke up. He and Kate finally took that vacation and Kat was more than happy to babysit Will.

TAWNY “Come on, open your eyes.” I try to encourage Mason, gently squeezing his hand. The healers have removed as much Nightshade from his bloodstream as they could. Drained his blood then gave him more. Mason should have healed by now, but the dirty fighters had used silver-coated blades dipped in the venomous poison. They had stabbed Mason so deeply and multiple times that his body was having a hard time stitching itself back together. An indication that his feline was not present to help heal him. Not a good sign at all.

Curious looks are thrown at me but I don't care. Nothing of human nature applies to Battista Cattaneo, AKA Ash Thunder. If Grant is a human, then Ash is a god, a hurricane, his nature unpredictable, the totality of his being as beautiful as it is understated, perilous, and unrelenting. A brave man who never fears the fire, never fears death. I craved the wills of the tempest when I sought him out but I didn't know the extent of the storm I was getting myself into as at the time.

"I'll die first." "Then I'll make sure even hell won't accept your soul." Serena hissed before lashing an elbow down his spine. That was her stink. Marconi yelled as the pain travelled all over his body. He dropped to the floor, his hand on his back, the pain excruciatingly taking over his mentality; so intensely that he was forgetting about himself. His bowels emptied themselves all over his pants. The big yellow viper wasn't tattooed on her back for nothing; she wasn't referred to as the Lord's most dangerous predator just cause. She earned it. Her venom would hit you so bad, like she said, hell itself would reject your soul.

With a roar that shook the very foundations of the forest, it launched one final assault. Its remaining arm swung with a primal force, aiming to crush Derek's skull. But the vampire, his reflexes honed to perfection, sidestepped the attack and countered with a powerful strike to the creature's exposed side. The lizard man stumbled, its movements sluggish, as the weight of its injuries began to take their toll. Derek sensed victory within his grasp. With unwavering determination, he pressed the assault, his blade slashing through the air with surgical precision. Finally, with one last strike, Derek pierced the lizard man's heart. A guttural cry erupted from the creature's mouth, reverberating

"She wants to wait for intelligence reports while that freak anchors his roots into my father's council. We strike tonight, while his scent is still fresh." "But the Luna commanded—" "The Luna does not see the speed of the infection!" Tahlia barks, reaching into her tactical belt and drawing a small, reinforced glass vial containing a writhing, pitch-black viper from the Blacktide marshes. "Drop this over his balcony guide-rail." Brena’s skin goes completely white under her hair. "A Blacktide adder? The venom liquefies the blood core within three minutes... it will look like a wild mountain accident if it breaches his furs, but..."

"The third code is locked... to the guild's bloodline. If I give it to a Lycan who isn't registered... the vault self-destructs anyway..." Ivan sighed, setting the parchment down. He stood up, walking slowly toward the hanging merchant. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small, glass vial containing a swirling, milky-white liquid—the Feral’s Kiss, a highly illegal neurotoxin derived from the nightshade of the southern swamps. In small doses, it caused agonizing pain; in large doses, it permanently shattered a Lycan or human’s cognitive mind, reducing them to a mindless, drooling husk.

With blinding speed, I reached into the specialized leather bandolier strapped across my chest. My fingers curled around two long, perfectly balanced throwing darts. The razor-sharp steel tips had been thoroughly saturated in a highly concentrated, paralyzing neurotoxin—a lethal cocktail derived directly from the rare nightshade and aconite variants I had cultivated in my private greenhouse. I didn’t waste a single second. Thwip. Thwip. The poisoned steel sliced silently through the driving rain. They embedded themselves flawlessly into the millimeter of exposed flesh at the base of the sentries' necks.

Lightning illuminated a small cabin nestled among the trees, smoke rising from its chimney despite the late hour. "There," he said, pointing toward the structure. "But we need to be careful. The pack doesn't know you're coming." The understatement of the century. The Nightshade pack would have every reason to kill me on sight I was their enemy's former Luna, potentially carrying valuable intelligence about Bloodfang defenses and weaknesses. Even if they didn't immediately execute me, I would be lucky to avoid torture. "What will you tell them?" I asked as we began our descent toward the cabin.

Somehow hearing whatever that was made me dizzy. It was mocking me. Speaking without words. But I couldn’t be distracted. I dipped my hand into the pouch at my side. A special present I'd requested from Vann — black sap venom. It was meant for putting down beasts of burden that were too wild to be tamed. It was an extremely powerful poison, the kind that fed on rot and spread even better in decay. I popped the cork with my teeth and smudged the thick sludge across my claws. It burned my skin. Good. It would hurt the beast more.