Novel & Cerita A Deadly Wandering

An unknown contact, yet the content is unmistakable – a picture of a battered Daren accompanied by a chilling message: "72 hours are up, Elena."

But, as Alaya explained, parents felt their children were safest in the park, since the surrounding lands were home to plenty of wild and dangerous creatures. There were also wandering werewolves, though Alaya assured me they weren’t truly dangerous. They left their own packs in search of mates, traveling enormous distances, sniffing out everything in their path. They didn’t attack humans or other beings unless provoked, and were mostly harmless. But—if one of them caught the scent of his mate on a girl, there would be no escape. He would drag her back to his den… and love her to the point of madness. So, young women were advised to be careful and avoid wandering too far from home. How I man

They aren't just solely from our pack; they are from other packs, other realms—humans, zombies, pixies, fairies, and other supernaturals. They aren't allowed into any packs or realms except Wraithland, where they have been banished. It is then I notice the deep X scar on his neck. If any of the wanderers are caught in these parts, they wouldn't be spared. No wonder he looks so pale and lifeless. "You are a wanderer?" "I exalt myself above that name." "What if you had been caught? You know what they do to people like you—" His sudden frown makes me recoil. "I don't fear death or torture. But I do inflict it on people." His smirk returns, and then he steps closer, placing his hands on my sleev

When Evan got home, he opened the diary with shaking hands. Every line cut him to the bone. [Today, the doctor told me that I only have three months left. I’m scared, not just for myself, but for Evan. If he finds out I’m dying, how much will it hurt him? But I never expected him to come home with a dating contract. His assistant wants to be with him for three months. My heart ached so badly I could barely breathe. It hurt more than hearing I was dying. But then I thought, since I’m leaving anyway, maybe it’s not such a bad thing if someone else can love him in my place. When Evan left to go find Cherry, I coughed up blood. But I didn’t tell him. Even though I resented it, I just couldn’t be

Which makes a thought come to my head and I frown. “Everything okay?” Dylan notices and asks. “How did a rogue get past your security if you so easily caught up to us?” I ask the one question that is bugging me. Rogues are wolves that have been severed from their pack link, they have a terrible and rotting stench. To be exiled, you must have done something terrible and unforgivable. Not all rogues are bad since some are exiled because they lose control to their wolf, mostly when their mate dies.They usually travel alone,

I blinked my eyes repeatedly, confused as to where my headaches come from; my wound or my annoyance, or both. He nodded, seemingly knowing the answer to my unspoken question. "But not dwellers of the sacred lands. They are strays, a lone wolf they call it. These creatures are travelling without a pack or a tribe - they had either ran off from their family or simply have made the mistake of choosing a lone path, thinking they could do it - and a wolf alone in the world would sooner see themselves lose to insanity and madness. Eventually, the Rots fosters inside their body. And there are drives them even feral."

Rowan asked. Harkan looked toward the West—past the mountains, past the ruins of the Council’s old empire, toward the **Great Dead Zone**. "There is a place where the threads never reached. A place so broken and barren that even the Aethel-Group didn't want to buy it. We call it the **Dust-Well**." "It's a death sentence," Rowan said. "It's a chance to be invisible," I said, looking at the silver scars on my arms. "And right now, being invisible is the only way we stay alive."

It smelled like copper and wet fur. "We need an exit vector," Barzil said. His voice was steady, but his eyes were darting, searching the trap we’d walked into. "Wolfy?" Pressure built behind my eyes. A migraine spike, sharp and blinding. I forced my brain to work, to ignore the terror clawing at my throat. North: The Walker. Death. East and West: Sheer cliffs of unstable scrap. Climbable, but slow. We would be picked off like insects on a wall. Death. South...

Dalton's POV My father's voice echoed in my head from childhood. "Never enter the Dead Zones, son. Wolves who go in don't come out the same that’s if they come out at all." He had told stories of wolves who turned feral, their humanity stripped away from them. Others who walked in circles until they died of thirst, unable to find their way out. The Dead Zones were where wolf instincts failed, where our greatest strengths became our deepest weaknesses. But they were also completely off the grid. No signals penetrated those areas, and no satellites could track movement. Whatever made them deadly to wolves also made them invisible to technology.

“Selene, you’re changing. And not the way newborn wolves do. Something older woke up in you last night. If you stay blind to it, you’ll get yourself killed. Or worse, you’ll bring that thing back.” My heart hammered in my ears. “What thing?” The rogues exchanged uneasy glances. Nira spoke barely above a whisper. “We call them Shades. Wolves who died without shifting… and didn’t stay dead.” Arden’s jaw locked. “Shut. Up.” “Why?” Nira demanded. “Because she deserves to know what hunts her? What hunts anyone like her?” I stepped between them before Arden could snap. “Enough. Both of you.” Arden’s chest rose and fell hard. This wasn’t anger—it was fear. Of what Nira was saying. Of me hearing it.