Fang and Claw

By Nicole Whittaker

Fang and Claw is a Forbidden love fantasy romance that asks the question, how far would you go to follow your heart. The story unfolds through Feyre Moonshadow, the daughter of the werewolf tribes chieftain, who finds herself drawn to not only a member of their ancient enemy, but the vampire prince himself.

In a world where werewolves and vampires are ancient adversaries, Feyre, a loyal werewolf, falls for the forbidden: a vampire prince. As their love grows, tensions rise between their warring factions, forcing Feyre to navigate between loyalty to her tribe and her heart's desires. T

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nicole Whittaker
• Release date: Apr 10, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224964840

Nicole Whittaker

Nicole Whittaker was born in Melbourne, Victoria, Australia to a bloodline of creative people, artists, authors and musicians among them. So it's not surprising that Nicole has created art and fiction from an early age. She specializes in fantasy romance but also dabbles in contemporary as well.

Book preview

Chapter 1

As I stepped onto the grassy field, my feet found familiar grooves and dips, like old friends greeting me. The scent of fresh cut grass mixed with the metallic tang of sweat filled my nose. My muscles tensed and rippled beneath my skin as I prepared for the looming battle. A gust of wind rushed past, teasing my long, dark hair and whipping it into a frenzy around my face. But I remained focused, eyes locked on my sparring partner in front of me, ready to unleash my powerful blows.

My feet shifted gracefully as I danced around my sparring partner, a proud smile playing on my lips. My green eyes flickered with determination and focus as I searched for any weakness in their defence. Each strike and parry was a testament to my years of training and the teachings of my tribe. The forest echoes with the sound of our weapons clashing, a symphony that only added to my adrenaline rush. As the daughter of the Moonshadow clan, I fought not just for myself but for the honour and legacy of my people. And in this moment, as my muscles strained and sweat dripped down my temple, I felt more alive than ever before.

Come on, Feyre! Is that all you’ve got? taunted a voice from the circle of warriors. The words were laced with jest, but they stoked the fire within me.

Watch closely, then, I shot back, a grin tugging at the corner of my mouth.

My body tensed and I sprang forward, my sword held tightly in my hand. With a quick feint to the left, I then swept right with full force. The blade moved effortlessly through the air as if it were an extension of my own arm. My fellow warriors erupted into cheers and howls, their voices blending into a chorus of camaraderie and admiration for our shared strength. The weight of the training sword felt like a comforting presence in my grip, reminding me of my power as a tempest unleashed upon the battlefield.

My opponent’s muscles tensed and a sly grin spread across his face as he shifted his weight, trying to catch me off guard. But I was no novice in the art of combat. As he lunged towards me, I twisted my body and used his own momentum against him, spinning into a fluid counterattack that caught him by surprise. Our blades clashed together in a fierce dance, each move calculated and precise as we tested each other’s skill and determination. It was a beautiful, intense exchange filled with adrenaline and grit.

Enough! A commanding voice sliced through the din, and we all paused, instinctively straightening in response. I didn’t need to look to know it was our chief watching; his presence was as commanding as a thunderclap.

Good form, Feyre, he acknowledged, and pride swelled within me.

Thank you, sir, I replied, my voice steady despite my exertion.

Sweat dripped down my forehead as I lowered my fists, exhausted from another intense sparring session. My father’s piercing stare felt like a physical weight on my shoulders, his silent expectations hanging heavy in the air. It wasn’t just about preserving our tribe’s honour anymore – it was about my own personal battle against tradition and the yearning for a freedom that seemed out of reach within the confines of our ancient customs.

With a sense of fulfilment, I sheathed my sword and joined my fellow warriors. We sat around the fire, relishing in the warmth and camaraderie. As the moon rose high in the sky, casting an ethereal glow upon us, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was looming on the horizon. My warrior instincts told me that danger was near, and as a daughter of my tribe’s chieftain, I knew my strength would soon be tested. But deep down, as a woman with her own desires and dreams, I also felt torn between duty and freedom. Little did I know that this night would mark the beginning of a journey that would challenge every fibre of my being.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, our village was shrouded in a violet twilight. I paced back and forth on the packed dirt floor of our council hall. The latest reports from our scouts confirmed that the vampires were once again encroaching upon our territory. Their very existence was a threat, their thirst for blood a constant peril we could not ignore. Humans were their easy prey, but we werewolves, bound by moon and flesh, knew better than to underestimate the cunning of our immortal enemies.

Father, I called out, my voice echoing off the timber walls. Chief Moonshadow stood at the far end of the room, his tall and imposing figure silhouetted against the fading light. Age had begun to weave strands of silver into his dark mane, but he remained the unyielding pillar of our tribe. His stern features, marked by countless battles, were set in deep contemplation.

Daughter, he replied, his voice carrying the weight of centuries. The scent of vampire lingers on the wind. We must reinforce our patrols.

Agreed. The word left my lips like a sharpened blade, ready to strike. But let us not forget the humans. They wander these woods oblivious, unaware that they are nothing but sheep amidst wolves and leeches.

True, but the humans are not our concern tonight. His eyes, reflecting the wisdom of a leader who had seen many moons, met mine with an intensity that demanded respect. It is the vampires who dare to challenge the ancient lines drawn in blood and shadow.

I nodded, feeling the familiar surge of protectiveness for my kin. We lived by the rules of tooth and claw, where strength and vigilance kept us sovereign in our domain. Yet there was something primal, a deeper dread reserved for the fang. The ones who defied death and hunted under the same moon that granted us our power.

Tell me, Feyre, Father’s voice softened, tugging at the seams of my resolve. Do you fear them?

The fang? I scoffed, allowing a smirk to dance briefly across my lips. Fear is a luxury we cannot afford. I am wary, Father. There’s a difference.

Spoken like a true warrior of the Moonshadow tribe. His chest swelled with pride, but beneath it, I sensed his unease—a father’s fear for his child in a world where ancient hatreds refused to die.

Let the vampires come, I whispered more to myself than to him, gazing through the open doorway at the crescent moon ascending the heavens. They will find no easy prey here.

Chief Moonshadow placed a firm hand on my shoulder, grounding me to the earth and our purpose. Together, we stand vigilant, he said, his voice resolute as the stone walls that protected us.

Always, I replied, meeting the depth of his gaze, knowing that our fates were intertwined with the very cycle of night and day, life and death.

We would face what came—be it beast or blood-drinker—with the courage of those who howled beneath the stars, masters of the dark woods we called home.

With each bound, my paws sunk into the soft earth, propelling me forward with wild energy. The sharp aroma of pine needles and damp soil filled my nostrils, heightening my senses as I weaved through the tangled underbrush. The large canopy above provided a natural blanket of darkness, occasionally broken by the moon’s majestic glow. Its beams illuminated my path, guiding me deeper into the heart of the forest where I belonged.

Can’t catch me, Feyre! Kael’s voice erupted from somewhere to my left, his tone teasing and full of challenge.

I pushed harder, my legs carrying me faster than the whispering wind. In your dreams, Thornclaw! I called back, my voice laced with mirth. We’d played this game since we were pups. Chasing each other through the woods, honing our skills. But it was more than just a game; it was a dance of trust and camaraderie.

Behind you, Aria chimed in, her voice melodic even when she was in the heat of the chase. Her laughter tinkled through the air, like chimes stirred by a gentle breeze.

I glanced over my shoulder to see her silver form gaining on me. She moved with a joy that made it seem like she danced rather than ran, her bright blue eyes shining with life. It was impossible not to share in her joy.

Alright, you two, I conceded as I slowed to a stop beneath a grand old oak, its branches reaching out as if to embrace us in its ancient wisdom. You’ve caught the mighty Feyre Moonshadow. What will you do with her now?

Convince her she’s making a mistake, Kael said, his tone suddenly serious as he transformed back into his human form, his unruly dark hair sticking to his forehead. He stood tall before me, his eyes reflecting concern and something deeper.

Kael... I started, knowing what he spoke of without needing him to explain.

Your father can’t decide your fate, Feyre, Aria added gently, shifting back to her human shape, the twinkle in her eyes softening into empathy.

An arranged marriage? I scoffed, feeling the anger bubble inside me, threatening to burst forth like a geyser. To some claw warrior who’s more interested in my lineage than my heart?

Exactly. You’re meant for more than that, Kael insisted, stepping closer. You have dreams, ambitions... passions.

Love should be chosen, not arranged, Aria agreed, her hand finding mine and squeezing it reassuringly.

Father doesn’t understand. He sees it as duty, as strengthening the pack, I complained, looking up at the stars peeking through the leaves, wondering if they held the answers I sought.

Then make him understand, Kael urged. His gaze held mine, unwavering. You are Feyre Moonshadow, fiercest warrior of our tribe. If anyone can defy tradition, it’s you.

Easy for you to say, I muttered, though his words ignited a spark of rebellion within my chest. It wasn’t just about defying tradition, it was about claiming my own destiny.

Maybe it is easy for me to say, Kael admitted, because I know you, and I know the strength of your spirit cannot be caged by an arranged match.

Aria nodded in agreement, her smile encouraging. You have to follow your heart wherever it may lead.

Taking a deep breath, I let their words wash over me, feeling the weight of expectation lift ever so slightly from my shoulders. My path wouldn’t be forged by the will of others, but by the strength of my own desires.

Tonight, I run free, I declared, transforming once again into my wolf form. With a howl that echoed my newfound resolve, I bolted into the night. My friends at my side, the moon above, and my heart leading the way.

I pushed against the heavy wooden door, its hinges protesting with a loud groan. My father’s chamber was dark and musty, the air thick with the scent of pine and earth that always reminded me of home. But now, it felt suffocating, like invisible shackles around my wrists. I took a deep breath to steady myself before stepping inside, my body tense with determination.

Father, I began, my voice steady, though my heart raced like a cornered hare. Chief Moonshadow sat behind his grand desk, his stern features barely illuminated by the flickering candlelight. His eyes met mine, and in them, I saw the reflection of duty that had bound generations of our kind.

Speak your mind, Feyre. His voice was deep and carried the weight of duty.

I took a breath, allowing the courage that came from running wild under the moon to fill my lungs. I cannot marry Himar Blackclaw. My spirit rebels at the very thought of a life tethered to a choice that is not my own.

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he remained silent, giving me the chance the speak my mind.

Every fibre of my being exists to protect our tribe, to honour our ways, I continued, my hands clenching at my sides. But how can I vow to stand beside a mate I do not choose? How can I promise to love, to cherish, when my heart does not, cannot, lie?

Your feelings... he started, then paused, as if grappling with a language foreign to him. They are not what guide us. It is the survival of the pack. The strength of our bloodline.

Yet what strength comes from a bond forged in duty alone? I challenged. If we are to lead, to inspire, should we not also show that the heart also has a voice that needs to be heard?

Chief Moonshadow rose, his towering figure a testament to the power and responsibility he bore. He approached, and I braced myself for his rebuke, but his voice, when it came, held an edge of weariness, of understanding.

Your mother was chosen for me, he said quietly, in a rare glimpse into his guarded soul. And through duty, love grew. It is our way, Feyre. To question it is to question the very essence of our existence.

Perhaps it is time for new ways, I whispered, the words tasting like both freedom and betrayal on my tongue.

He sighed, and in that exhalation, I sensed his conflict. Love for his daughter warring with the chains of tradition. You are strong, fierce, and your will bends for no one. But you are part of something larger than yourself. Can you not bend for the sake of the pack?

Can the pack not bend for the sake of one heart? I countered.

We stood there, a mere breath apart, two souls caught in an ancient dance that neither of us knew the steps to. In his eyes, I saw the struggle; the love battling the legacy he cherished.

Father, I seek your blessing to find my own path, I said, my voice softer now. Not as defiance, but as a plea for understanding. For a chance to prove that strength doesn’t only come from tradition, but from the courage to embrace change.

Chief Moonshadow’s gaze held mine, searching, seeking the truth of my conviction. And in that moment, beneath the weight of centuries and the dawn of possibility, we stood at the precipice of an unknown world—one where the heart dared to dream of a destiny that was truly its own.

My boots sank into the damp earth with a heavy thud, echoing in the clearing as I faced off against Kael. The fire in his eyes matched the intensity of my own, both of us determined to win this match. My heart raced with anticipation and inner conflict, torn between following my own desires and obeying my father’s wishes. Each beat was a reminder of the tempest raging within me.

Ready to yield, Feyre? Kael teased, a smirk playing on his lips despite the tension that hung between us like a storm cloud.

Never to you, I shot back, the corner of my mouth twitching upward. His presence was an anchor in the turmoil that had become my life, his friendship a constant amidst the chaos of forbidden desires and societal chains.

As soon as Kael made his move, I countered with a swift parry and thrust. Our swords clashed loudly, the sound ringing in my ears as our bodies moved in perfect rhythm. My muscles hummed with the familiar joy of combat, each movement fluid and effortless. Kael was fast, but I anticipated his every move with the ease of countless sparring sessions. We moved like two well-oiled machines, neither able to gain the upper hand.

He lunged, feinting left before swinging right, but I was already there, blocking with a laugh that bubbled up from deep within. It was this, this connection, this respect, that made everything else fade away.

Good moves, Feyre, he praised, even as he circled me, looking for an opening.

I learned from the best, I returned, acknowledging both his skill and the bond we shared. With each exchange, each clash of our wooden swords, I could feel my confidence surge. Here, in this ring of dirt and sweat, my strength was undeniable, my will unbreakable.

Your father— Kael began, but I cut him off with a sharp gesture.

Let’s leave him out of the arena, shall we? The words were halfhearted. I knew the conversation was inevitable, but for now, I craved the ease of the fight, the comfort it brought.

Kael nodded, understanding flashing in his eyes, and we fell back into rhythm. Our sparring was more than just training. It was a silent conversation, an exchange of trust and mutual respect.

Yield! I finally exclaimed, a triumphant grin splitting my face as I pinned Kael beneath me, my wooden blade resting lightly against his throat.

Only because you’re scary when you win, he joked, though there was a hint of something else in his voice. Something like pride.

Rolling off him, I offered a hand and pulled him to his feet. I’m scary all the time, Thornclaw. You’d best remember that.

He clapped me on the back, his touch grounding. I do, Moonshadow. I do.

As we walked off the field together, I felt the weight of my father’s disapproval press against me. But with every step, every breath of the cool evening air, my resolve hardened. I would not be caged by tradition or duty. I would follow my heart wherever that treacherous organ might lead.

Whatever comes, I whispered to myself, to the moon above, I’ll face it as a warrior. And I meant every word.

I pushed my way through the dense foliage, shivering as the cool night air brushed against my skin. The moon’s soft glow illuminated a figure ahead of me – Aria Silverpaw, her sleek silver fur reflecting the light. As I approached her, a wave of comfort and understanding washed over me in the midst of the dark, tangled thicket.

Hey, I murmured, my voice barely a whisper amongst the rustling leaves.

Trouble on your mind? she asked without turning, her gaze fixed on the stars that pierced the night sky like shards of hope.

I folded my legs beneath me, the grass cool and damp against my skin. Is it that obvious?

Aria chuckled softly, the sound as comforting as the gentle wind that danced among the trees. Only to someone who knows you as I do.

Father wants me bound to one of our warriors, a marriage of convenience for the tribe, I confided, my voice shaking with a mixture of rage and sorrow. But my heart... it yearns for something else. Something forbidden.

True love, she said, her words not a question but a statement, spoken with the clarity of one who sees the world for what it could be, rather than what it is.

Exactly. I let out a shaky breath, my eyes stinging with unshed tears. I can’t leash myself to a life devoid of passion, Aria. My spirit would wither and die.

She reached out, her hand warm against my arm. Then you must fight, Feyre. Fight for the future you desire, not the one laid out before you.

Even if it means defying everything we are? I asked, the weight of centuries of tradition heavy on my tongue.

Especially then, she replied with conviction. Love doesn’t adhere to the lines drawn by the old ways.

Her words were a salve to my churning thoughts. With a deep, steadying breath, I rose to my feet, my resolve fortifying with each heartbeat that echoed in my ears.

Thank you, Aria, I whispered, gratitude lacing my tone. For reminding me who I am.

Always, Feyre, she replied, her smile a silent vow of enduring support.

Leaving her warmth behind, I ventured deeper into the forest, into the realm of whispers and secrets. The canopy of leaves above held back the rest of the world, leaving only the stars as my companions.

As I ventured deeper into the ancient forest, my footsteps muffled by a layer of fallen leaves, I let out a sigh of relief. The familiar sounds of nocturnal creatures surrounded me, and I felt a sense of calm wash over me. This was my sanctuary – a place where I could let go of my warrior persona and face my inner turmoil without fear. With each step, I allowed myself to process my emotions and confront the daunting road ahead.

Where do I belong? I pondered aloud, the words dissipating into the night. With my people, bound by duty? Or in another place, where my heart dares to beat freely?

The leaves rustled in response, as if the spirits of the forest themselves offered counsel in their silent language. I closed my eyes, drawing in the earthy scent of the woods, feeling the pulse of life around me.

Show me the way, I pleaded with the moon, her silvery glow casting a gentle light on my path. Guide me through this labyrinth of the heart.

Though no answer came on the wind, a sense of peace settled over me. A quiet acknowledgement that whatever choices I made, I would face them with the courage of a werewolf and the fierceness of a woman who knows her own heart.

The crunching of dried leaves beneath my boots and the faint echoing call of an owl were my only company as I made my way through the dark forest. A soft, mossy carpet cushioned each step, while a gentle breeze brushed against my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

Enough, I murmured to myself, a fervent whisper lost among the chorus of nighttime serenades. No more wavering, Feyre Moonshadow. You are daughter of the Chief, yes, but you are also your own.

I stopped in my tracks, standing tall beneath the shimmering leaves of the silver-washed canopy. My hands balled into tight fists, and I could feel my nails digging into my palms with every ounce of determination. The moon hung high above, casting an ethereal glow upon me as I made a silent promise to myself, with only nature as my witness.

Let them talk, I declared to the stars, their twinkling light seemingly nodding in approval. Let them see that I am more than a pawn. I am a warrior of the Moonshadow pack, and I will not be shackled by archaic traditions.

As I stood in the forest, surrounded by towering trees and crunching leaves beneath my feet, a single leaf floated down from above and landed softly on my shoulder. Its vibrant green colour contrasted against my dark jacket, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace wash over me as if nature itself was trying to comfort me. In that moment, my doubts and fears dissipated, replaced by a fierce determination that surged through my body like wildfire.

Father may not understand, not now, I granted, the weight of his expectations heavy on my heart. Yet, even as I accepted this, my spirit soared, unburdened. But I will show him...and everyone else...that a soul cannot be caged. Not by fear, not by duty.

With each step back toward the village, my determination grew, a steady drumbeat in sync with the pulse of the night. There would be challenges ahead, conflicts to test me and my resolve, but I would face them head-on. For the first time, I understood that my path was mine to carve, my destiny mine to weave from the raw threads of desire and dreams.

As the edge of the forest gave way to the open expanse leading home, I paused, gazing back at the dark silhouette of trees. The moon shone brightly, casting a path before me that seemed to glow with potential.

Watch over me, Luna, I pleaded softly, knowing that the trials to come would shape the very essence of my being. With a deep breath, I stepped forward, out of the shadows and into the unknown. For I am Feyre Moonshadow, and I will forge my own path.

Chapter 2

The grand hall of the Vampire Court stretched before him, its ancient stones whispering tales of power and blood-soaked glory. He stood there, Thorne Thaddeus, heir to the fang throne, his blond locks a pale waterfall down his back, contrasting starkly with the night-black attire of his courtly obligation. His gaze swept the room, searching for one person among the sea of aristocratic predators–his mother, Lady Minerva Thaddeus.

Where is she? The words were a silent murmur in his head, a quiet mantra that did little to calm the tempest brewing within his chest. The weight of her expectations bore down on him, a yoke forged from centuries of tradition, unseen yet as heavy as iron chains.

He shifted uneasily, the fine fabric of his jacket pulling across his broad shoulders. The reminders of a strength that was more than just physical. A strength that yearned to break free, to carve a future where the whispers of war between fangs and claws were silenced by a harmony long deemed impossible. Yet, each step toward that dream felt like a betrayal,