A Rejected Wolf And A Court Of Ash Novels & Stories

“Are you looking for something specific in this book?” “Not really.” I turn the pages, looking at the handwritten cursive ink. Raphael caresses my shoulder, watching me. “The Battle of the Fallen.” I skim through the pages and begin to read the book out loud. “The Raven Wolf King was locked in battle with the High Wolf King. Early 15th century. The battle raged for days until both monarchs finally met in battle, locking in a gruesome sword fight. Ravens flocked to their master as they waited to do his bidding. The High Wolf King fought with valor with all odds stacked against him, for the Raven Wolf King was known for his resilience and invincibility—the devil man was known not to die.” I re

She had a collection of pressed flowers hidden in her closet and sometimes left gifts for the wolves she saw at night—small polished stones, pieces of meat, or strings of yarn. She didn’t know she was the daughter of a war. That her blood once silenced gods. That the flame in her veins was only waiting for permission to burn. ⸻ Closing Hook: Something in the Woods One night, Ashara heard something outside her window. She got up and pulled back the curtain. A wolf stood there. But it was not like any wolf she’d ever seen. It was massive, with fur that shimmered silver, and eyes that glowed like embers.

The east ridge stretched before us, covered in white and silent—until we noticed the long, dark line where snow had been pushed up from below. Adele walked beside me. Our shoulders bumped together with each step. The connection felt solid and warm despite the cold. "What do you think that is?" she asked in a low voice. "I'm not sure yet. But I keep thinking about the purple dust from the vaults." Bram pointed his sword. "Look over there. The snow is cracking open." A long split ran across the white ground. Something dark came up through it. First a claw appeared. Then a long snout covered in dirt and ice. Then a whole wolf emerged—thin, wild-eyed, and not one of ours.

His gaze was too cold and lacked empathy. "Rosita Blackwater..." he began, his voice deep and cold, my heart stopped, my hands turned super sweaty, Kalia stared at him with a look of confusion on her face and opened her mouth to speak but he continued. "...I Ryker Star, Alpha of Blackmoon Pack hereby rejection you as my mate, do you accept" Thwack!

Every step sent sharp pain through his ribs, but he gritted his teeth and focused on Liora’s determined face, he wouldn’t fall behind. A huge crimson-furred wolf, the one from the ridge, the soldier burst from the trees ahead, blocking their path. It stood on its hind legs, intelligent, hateful eyes locking on Liora. Ash didn’t slow down; instead, he slammed into the beast, his knife flashing silver. The wolf roared and swiped a clawed paw that tore through leather and flesh. Ash grunted from the pain but drove his knife deep into its shoulder. “Ash!” Liora cried out.

The pain still pulsed, but the rage began to loosen its grip. “She wouldn’t give up,” I whispered, more to myself than to Orion. “No,” he agreed. “She’d make it look like she did, but she’d never stop fighting.” My wolf stirred within me—not furious this time, but aching. ‘She’s ours,’ he murmured. ‘Still ours. She would not surrender willingly. She must have her reasons.’ I sighed, pressing my bloodied hands to my face. What had I been thinking? That Ashina, who stood against armies, who looked death in the eye, would suddenly give in and lie beneath my father?

But clearly he couldn’t see what I did, because when I looked at Asher, I did not see a commoner. Right before us all, Asher leaped into the air and did what should only be possible on a full moon, he shifted. His wolf’s fur was pure white and its eyes glowed—not green, but red. It let out a warning growl, but the authority rang in his voice and as one, every pack member fell to their knees in submission. Reign backed away, whatever boldness he’d once held was no more. Anger, fear, sadness, and defeat were what crossed through his eyes.

Ash was still weak next to Colton's massive gray wolf. Colton growled as his canines ripped into Ash's beautiful white and brown wolf. He let out a victorious howl as Ash crumbled to the ground. The game was lost before it had started. Ash was no match for Colton. Ash, beautiful, beautiful Ash, with eyes full of innocence, a heart full of sparkling laughter and happiness. He had been her world. She was almost like a mother to him, from his breath.

My eyes harden. He’s been watching me. The anger takes over my body, letting Ash out to play. Her red fur covers my body as I shift. The rogue growls before shifting into his matted brown wolf. Ash’s howl fills the night sky as she launches the first attack. The wolf may be larger than her, but he’s a lot slower. Ash’s teeth sink into his front leg, making him yelp. The rogue grabs Ash’s ear and flings her body into a nearby tree. She is quick to bounce back onto her feet. The rogue lunges at her again. This time Ash turns, avoiding his grasp. She jumps onto his back, pushing her canines into his neck. He tries to shake Ash off, but it’s futile. Her teeth sink until she hears a satisfying cr

And the hand-drawn pictures showed magnificent animals, sometimes poised on a rock in the moonlight, other times racing through woods. The first chapters of the book were devoted to the history of shifters and the explanation of the Slavic term for them, vlkodlak. Now why did that suddenly sound familiar to her? Of course! Her neighbor, Mike Volka. He'd said his ancestry was Slavic. Was that the reason for his interest in werewolves? She needed to get the book out again and get back into it. She replaced what she called her library clothes with sweats and a long-sleeved tee shirt, leaving off her bra, a treat she gave herself in the privacy of her own home. Then she fed Mischief, fixed herse