A Curse Of Blood And Wolves Novels & Stories

“That is nothing new. It always happens. The alpha loses control of his wolf once in a while.” “It is because of the curse, right?” another maid asked. “Yes.” The word curse made my fingers tighten around the fabric I held. A curse, what was that all about? “His wolf isn’t stable.” “That is why Marcus is always with him.” “I heard he killed a maid one day when he went berserk.” Their voices dipped lower into hushed whispers, and I couldn’t hear what they were saying again. But what I heard was more than enough to send my mind into disarray. A curse. My mind ruminated over the word over and over again.

I whispered. Theo looked at me sharply. “You recognize it?” I did. It belonged to an order my mother once warned me about as a child. A secret faction older than most packs. Wolves who believed bloodlines should rule destiny. Who worshipped rare mates, curses, lunar omens. The Order of the Crescent Moon. I hadn’t heard that name in years. “They were supposed to be extinct,” I said. Theo’s face paled. “Ava…” Before he could continue, alarms blared through the room.

“Any time they would make any progress, the wolves of the forest would come and ferociously attack them. The settlers’ solution was to enter into a contract with Malkouth and the genizem. They sacrificed to the forest with the blood of their children, their brothers, and neighbors, and gave them over to the spirits as an offering of peace. The spirits received the blood of the men and replayed the settlers with a gift: that by the spirits’ power they should become wolves more mighty than those which dwelled in the forest and terrorized the town. A select set of these townspeople would become hybrids, wolf-men endowed with the power of the genizem and connected to them. These special wolves o

“The one your ancestor, Kaelthorn left, what happens if you defy it?” Riven didn’t flinch. His posture remained unnervingly calm, eyes half-lidded. “The burden of the cursed blood falls on those who wield it… me and my warriors. The rest of my pack remains untouched because l forged a ritual to protect them. Every non-combatant wolf bears a brand carved in blood and ash across their chest… a mark that severs them from the cursed link.” He leaned back, the shadow of a faint smile curling up his lips. “They can plant and harvest while we burn.”

The thing is ancient—real leather, real paper, the edges worn soft by too many hands. She sets it on the table and flips through with a thumb that’s already stained green, probably from spending the morning grinding fresh herbs. The pages whisper against each other, the text inside written in looping, patient script. I glimpse illustrations: wolves standing on hind legs, pairs of them locked together, all beneath a red-inked moon. “The Blood Moon Binding,” Cassie says, tapping the page. “Old law. Older than the packs splitting. Even older than the Nightshade curse. Makes it possible for wolves from two different packs to mate…legally. It even sanctions it.”

“Because I know what it’s like to be watched by everyone.” The words cracked something in me. The arrogance was gone for that heartbeat, stripped bare to something raw. I didn’t push. I just turned back to the shelves. And then I saw it. A yellowed page was tucked between the heavy books, its faded ink still clear enough to read. My hand shook as I pulled it free. The title was scrawled at the top in jagged letters: First Blood. My eyes scanned the words, fragments only. Before wolves, before oaths, there was the First. Blood that commands, blood that binds. Not beast, not man, but both. The source. The curse.

“She will suffer an unbreakable bond, and the world will turn against her.” Her whole body lit afire. “But…she will also turn against the world.” The bodies that were floating behind her drifted over to her, bumping her trembling legs. Her lips opened, but the scream had not escaped her, instead, blood rose up her throat, pouring from her mouth. “I put a curse on you wicked wolves! A curse that will live on forever with your bloodline!” The flickering light turned to blue, then…slowly, it disappeared and darkness prevailed once more.

If only it did something to dim his otherworldly good looks. Three wolves ran down his bicep, darting in between trees. Shadows clung to their fur, while their eyes glowed with the same strange light I’d seen in Azrael’s a time or two. Before I could process the fact that I’d definitely seen one of the wolves move, his head popped up. There was a tilt to his lips that made my hands clammy. “What would you say if I told you I had information about your family curse.” I stopped mid-chew. What were the odds he’d actually tell me? Gods were tricky beings. Always playing games and fighting for the upper hand. No matter how much kindness was shown to me, I couldn’t let myself forget that.

“Two packs existed to be the most powerful pack of our kind, the alvuelas and the crescent pack.” “Our pack was the crescent. The Alvuelas were concerned about power, they wanted to rule the entire werewolves pack with the tip of their fingers. It wasn’t in favour of the other packs as they have predicted how toxic the leadership will be, they prefer to be ruled by their own alpha since there is an alpha in every pack. The Alvuelas used violence and threatened the other subordinate packs with the death of their whole pack. They didn’t have much choice than to follow his influence and voted the Alvuelas in power. But there were two heroes from the crescent pack that stood against the whole pr

He was horrified by the image, so he immediately scrolled down to the website's context and read it. “Werewolves are people who morph into vicious wolves, according to some legends. The weaker ones look exactly like a normal wolf and can be seen in some cold weathered parts of the world. The powerful ones are mutants—a combination of human and wolf. They have a hairy human head with sharp fangs, elongated sharp claws, and a fur-covered human body. But both are bloodthirsty beasts who can not control their lust for killing. They have a thousand times more senses than anyone else—”