14 Werewolves Novels & Stories

Meanwhile, Chloe gave birth to a pup with pure golden fur, and suddenly her home was overflowing with admirers praising her husband’s powerful bloodline. Humiliated, Damian turned vicious. He berated me constantly, furious that he hadn’t chosen Chloe instead. In the Alliance, werewolf bloodlines fell into four ranks: Omega Black Werewolves, Beta Gray Werewolves, Alpha Silver Werewolves, and Golden Lycans. Each rank was divided further into low, average, and high categories.

Time is wasted enough without having to add to this trivial problem. The wolf Elder Brahma growled again, this time sending command through mind to all the wolves at once to Linda. In a flash, the nine wolves and a vampire-woman were already running at inhuman speeds. The sky was completely dark as they cut through the silence of the forest. The smaller beasts quickly moved aside before the demon wolves passed them. A few minutes later Linda and the wolf group stopped the run at an opening that was wide enough. The wolf Elder Brahma roared, then growled several times and took a few steps back. The others followed.

As the light drains away from the sky, leaving almost all shadow invisible, the moon perceptibly peaks, replacing the sunrays of its glow. Surging breeze created rustling sound of trees in the woods, grasses on the ground, and birds chirping along with it. Discernible howl from the council leader, beta Marcus, gathered the Moon Stone pack in the amphitheater made of centuries stones which they called the Paramount. This revered place is where werewolves come of age, receiving their print for normal wolves, and the beginning of their first turn – normally at the age of sixteen.

Leslie groaned awake as Tara and Zak dragged a table across the shattered window and braced it with chairs. “Tom? You can’t be out of bed,” Leslie said, pushing up on her elbows. “Jakey, what’s happening? What are those animals?” “Werewolves,” Jake said, eyes not leaving the hall. “They’re real.” Tara peeled a slat of the front blinds. “They’re everywhere,” she whispered. “Sniffing. Hunting.” Zak joined her, jaw tight. “Can we make the car?” She checked—froze. “They’re ripping the W.R.X. to pieces.”

Even though I haven't had the chance to explore the pack house which is as big as this castle, but I know where Alex's study is located one floor above my room. If Alex doesn't want to save Evelyn, then I will do it myself, I thought as I climbed the stairs one by one. Unlike usual, today this place felt even quieter. This packhouse is inhabited by young werewolves aged 19-25 years who do not have a mate. I once asked Alex why they had to gather in one place. He said that young werewolves must undergo very intense physical training to control their strength and temper their arrogant emotions. Alex himself followed him for 2 years during high school, but he didn't live permanently in the pack

As if that means anything to Thaila. "A pack? You mean there is more of you? More werewolfs?" All of this new information is taking a toll on her as she sits down and grabs her head. "Eleven pacts to be more precise, total more than a couple thousand werewolves across the continent. If we dont count the rouges." We never count on them anyway, although sometimes it feels like it's they who can't count on us.

But soon enough I had all the 11 files we had compiled and filled with invaluable information through a shit ton of hard work. I quickly opened the file at the very top, which belonged to the New Moon pack in South America. They had lost the least amount of wolves out of the total 12 packs attacked. Why? because less than 32 rogues had attacked them and they all seemed like normal werewolves but on a shit ton of weed.

"If Boss ordered us to subdue all the werewolves on that battlefield, how long do you think it would take?" "50 seconds," another male chimed in confidently. "45 seconds," another guessed. The woman, their leader, paused and gazed back at the distant chaos. Her voice was calm and authoritative, reflecting her extensive experience in battle. "15 seconds," she declared, "that's all it will take. They're just weak, untrained werewolves." As they disappeared into the night, the forest slowly regained its tranquility. Nocturnal creatures began to sing their nightly songs once more, with the only trace of the group's presence being the faint echoes of their retreating footsteps.

The other two wolves emerged from behind the mansion, their fur a darker, more foreboding shade that seemed to blend seamlessly with the shadows. The three wolves padded towards Nicholas, their eyes fixed on their Alpha with a deep, unwavering loyalty. As they drew closer, they fell into step before him, their howls merging with his in a chorus of sorrow and defiance. Together, the four werewolves stood as one, their voices echoing through the night, a testament to their unbreakable bond and their shared commitment to their pack.

The Mouth, Present Time As Lyric and Niarthen were walked through the camp, children peeked out of the tents and when given the nod by the adults, burst out to play. “It has been hard on the children,” the she-wolf with the amazing arse told them. She had informed them that there were fifty werewolves on the island, twelve bewildered cows, and fourteen very contented chickens.