Werewolf Claws Novels & Stories

the werewolf leader shrieked and made a move. "Kill!" We were all taken aback when we noticed their weapons. They were all using a legendary weapon (steel claws, mace, axe, chains, bow, sword, spear, etc.). The Green Dragon was right, the legendary weapons could hurt us. However, these werewolves messed with the wrong people.

A Lycan. It was monstrous, far larger than any werewolf I’d ever seen, its hulking frame covered in thick, bristling black fur. Its elongated snout curled in a vicious snarl, revealing fangs the size of my hands, gleaming like polished ivory under the moon’s glow. Its crimson eyes blazed with pure, unfiltered rage—feral, ancient, and merciless. Massive claws flexed from its gnarled hands, scraping against the earth as it stalked forward, radiating raw, predatory power.

“I need you to understand why I have chosen you for this great change… and why you need to give yourself a chance to be with him.” The next moment she pulled her hand back, almost as if she were pulling a rope, and a bright amethyst light burst out of me. It arched over my head and morphed in the air, landing gracefully a few feet away in the shape of a large wolf. Its body was consumed in flames the same shade of violet as my own fire, its eyes the deepest purple-blue I had ever seen. The wolf was much taller than me and longer as it shook out its head and body, stretching as if I had been sitting in place for a very long time.

When she opened her eyes, he was watching her, an amused smile in his eyes, but his lips were solemn. Because she felt hurt that what had meant so much to her only amused him, Drea latched on to the other feeling she had, the safer one – anger. In a minute, she was on him, slashing and scratching, her claws bared until he caught her claws in his hand and threatened to snap them off, all ten of them if she did not calm down. Drea stilled instantly once a Werewolf lost their claws, they could not grow any back. The Alpha twisted against them for good measure, and Drea bit down at her lower lip till she tasted blood, trying not to cry out.

Reluctantly I put my hand on Clayton’s shoulder to get his attention. Clayton turned around to meet my eyes. For those who hadn’t seen him angry before I had to admit it was a terrible sight. His rage filled eyes were a dark blood red colour. His inch and a half long fangs, that usually weren’t there, had grown in response to the emotionally charged situation. When he noticed it was me his eyes softened slightly. Alpha Clayton had both werewolf and vampire blood so his inner beast was a hybrid. So when he got pissed enough his wolf/ vampire would surface. As a result Alpha Clayton’s wolf Xavier was a bit different than most wolves. He was much more cruel.

I twisted just in time to see the first wolf leap for him, and watched with bugged out eyes as he caught it mid-air and slammed it into the ground like it was no more than a toy in his grasp. Then another came, and he spun, claws flashing. Yes, claws, long, lethal, curved claws exactly as you would expect from a werewolf, if books and movies were anything to go by. “Oh my God,” I breathed. “He’s actually—holy sh—” Rowan yanked me around. “Focus. Don’t look at him.” “Hard not to when he’s basically the supernatural John Wick,” I muttered, but I followed as he skirted along the ridge.

A lean, dark furred werewolf bolts from the underbrush, aiming to intercept me before I can reach the convoy. I pivot mid stride, my claws gouging deep furrows into the forest floor as I spin to face him head on. He lunges with a snarl, aiming for my throat, too predictable. I duck under his jaws and slam my shoulder into his chest, the impact lifting him off his paws. He hits the ground hard, dazed for half a second, long enough. I’m on him before he can recover. My claws rake across his muzzle, stunning him, and I seize the opportunity. I rear back and deliver a brutal swipe to his throat, claws slicing clean and deep. He lets out a gurgled whimper before going limp beneath me.

Crack! The first warrior's claws sliced toward me, fast as a shadow. I twisted aside, my fingers scraping bark as I rolled left, dodging the strike by a breath. ROAR—! His claws ripped into the tree where my head had been, splintering the trunk with brutal force. Before I could catch a breath, another werewolf launched himself over the tree, descending on me from above. Without thinking, I snatched up a broken branch from the ground and drove it straight toward his face.

“Are you certain?” "I wish I wasn't." My gaze never left Elana's face. Her breathing skipped, each breath shallower than the one before it. “Deadclaw was created generations ago.” Greyman said heavily. “It was never intended for ordinary wolves.” "What do you mean?" I asked him, holding her tight against me as I searched her eyes. “It was designed to kill those whose wolf genes remained dormant. Those the old world considered incomplete.” My jaw clenched. "Wolfless." Greyman sighed deeply before continuing. “The poison attacks slowly at first. It paralyzes the system, then enters the bloodstream and begins destroying every organ it reaches. Once it spreads completely, the victim begins cough

The rogue wolf startled with a sudden howl as I clamped my claws into its neck, using the force of my hit and the momentum to turn it over and pin it down while at the same time lunging for its heart with my fangs. For reasons unknown to me, my fangs were longer and sharper than those of your average werewolves and so were my claws. I shut out the howl of the rogue wolf as I ripped up a huge chunk of flesh and fur from its chest before digging my snout into the hole in its body and I clamped my teeth around its beating heart, fangs embedded in the vessel as I ripped it out of its body in one clean sweep.