Werewolf Novels & Stories

WEREWOLF A werewolf or lycanthrope is a mythological or folkloric human with the ability to shapeshift into a wolf or a therianthropic hybrid wolf-like creature, either purposely or after being placed under a curse or affliction. -Wikipedia Werewolf usually lives in packs. The pack will be organized by some wolves that are stronger or have more superior abilities than the others. There will be Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta, Hunter, Sentinel, Elder, Scout, Guardian, Omega, and Pup. But, in this story, not all of the wolf rank will be mentioned.

Maya and Vishous were madly in love with each other. Mostly because of the satisfaction they received from their various s*x adventures. Both of them were werewolves. Maya was a beautiful nineteen year old girl, turning twenty in a week. She was going to find her mate then. Everyone in werewolf world was supposed to find their mate once they were twenty years old. Maya was a little shy but adventurous when it came to sex. She was is personal s*x doll. A toy that he could lick and f**k however and whenever he wanted and she would still beg him for more.

Moon urged. "What is going to happen with this?" Rex asked a little nervous. "Your Wolf represents all your anger, your need for blood and violence. Wrapping in a ll up in a nice little bow, containing it is your human. Do you know your wolf's name?" Mook asked. "He has a name? I've always addressed him as Rex, as I do myself. " Rex looked at Moon confused. "Yes, your wolf has a name. Kit is the human, Singularis is his wolf. I am Moon and my Wolf is Krynn." Moon revealed.

We forge documents, I grow my hair like hippies, and you, on the contrary, shave it off. - What-o-o? - I already choked on the air, coughed, - Damn you, Lyoshka! - No, - he jumped up and dodged my hand, but it's a pity that his bad head just wanted to crack, - Damn it with people, werewolves have naraki. - What's the difference! - she jumped up, opened and immediately closed her mouth, realizing that he was taking the conversation in the other direction. - Maximum until mid-spring.

She probably saw us coming up here when the Cloak dissolved, probably even heard Aldrich’s sharply indrawn breath, but she’s unable to see anything. She’s a Werewolf. Her eyes are glowing as she glares at the spot where we are. If she decides to move toward us and prod at the spot with her foot like I know she wants to, she’ll feel us. The Cloak merely renders us invisible; it doesn’t render us into formless beings like the Guardians. Since she’s a Werewolf, I think she’s even catching whiffs of our scent. She takes a couple of steps toward us. We are moments away from being discovered.

“Winter, if she was pushed off of a cliff, he didn’t kill her. Werewolves can’t die by drowning. It might cause them some discomfort. But they’ll still come out of it alive. Didn’t you hear what Roman told me?” Winter shook her head. “Sorry, I was a little busy distracting myself with clothes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a closet like that before.” “Me, either,” said Nora, smiling, “but Roman told me that a werewolf could only be killed by a few things. One of their own kind, fire, and silver blessed by a priest.” Winter glared. “It doesn’t matter. It was cruel. He shouldn’t have done something like that.” “It wasn’t Ares.”

The pack members scattered, their faces etched with fear, their eyes wide with horror. In the center of the clearing, a monstrous figure loomed, its dark form shifting and growing. Moonlight cast an eerie glow on the creature, revealing its thick black fur, its piercing yellow eyes, and its gnashing teeth. It was Draven, mid-transformation, his human form battling the wolf within.

How strange was that? Channeling my inner sarcastic bitch, I puffed out my chest and lowered my voice to a deep rumble. “Fear not, little wolf, I will protect you. For I am Azrael, God of Wolves and stalkerish obsessions.” “My, what a deep voice for such a small girl.” With a gasp, I spun towards the sound.

This pull is strange, scary but amazing. The problem now is, how do I keep the most stubborn Vampire to ever exist safe without having a fight with her?

The air in the chamber didn't just chill; it died. The figure standing in the corner was a grotesque mockery of life. Ronan’s body, which Zayden had broken with his bare hands, stood upright, but his limbs moved with a disjointed, mechanical twitching. The void-black eyes leaked a dark, viscous smoke that pooled at his feet. This wasn't a werewolf. This was the Hollow—an ancient, forbidden rite of the Virex line used only when a challenger refused to stay dead.