Badass Werewolf Art Novels & Stories

I thought he didn't like my artwork, but a few minutes later he returned with a glowing crystal, which he mounted above the frame as a light source. "It looks better this way," he explained briefly, the tips of his ears turning red. The viewing screen exploded: 【The vampire-werewolf just decorated that painting!】 【I can't believe it! Is this really the same vampire-werewolf who massacred the entire Silver Moon Pack?】 【Serina's Lunar Fear is still 0! How on earth is she doing this?】 The witch sisters stood before the painting in silence for a long time. Finally, Morgana reached out and gently touched the image of herself.

The script was too ancient for me to understand so I focused on the drawings instead. The first one had a group of living beings, werewolves living together in a community, eating, relaxing, and living peacefully. The second one showed a few of them going on hunting and killing off the wild beasts easily. The leader seemed to have gained a lot of power and the next one showed him becoming more powerful and standing tall while addressing his pack. The drawings were fading away so I couldn’t catch all of it, but it seemed that this leader challenged the Moon Goddess herself, as he seemed to be jumping towards the moon with his claws pierced out.

Now curious as to why he was looking at it, I slowly turned to the large frame handing on the wall by a suit of armour. Although partially obscured by the low light, I managed to see what was on the picture. It looked like a painting, depicting a scene of battle—a large werewolf in its true form running towards an army with other wolves following behind it. Somehow, the werewolf had a sort of striking resemblance with Alpha Alaric.

Her left hand sat on the silver wolf's head, whether it be in comfort or protection it didn’t matter, again the artist captured the bond between the beauty and beast. The painting told the story of a battle scene, the sky was illuminated by a half moon that clouds swirled around. Behind the woman below the mound of rocks sat three wolves, bent so their snouts touched the ground as if bowing to the pair. Behind the Godly Wolf were four more wolves, the largest being a red wolf, looking almost as powerful as the silver wolf.

Unfortunately, It's apparent that during my summer vacation, I will live in the very place that has impacted my life more than words could fathom alone. The dream... the reality of what occurred one fateful night many years ago is bound to become a reality again, but there is nothing I can do besides cross my fingers and hope for the best. Hoping that night was really a dream, after all. The night where it all began. The night when I was attacked by a monster... The night I was attacked by a man shifting werewolf. With my legs snuggled against my chest and arms wrapped around them securely, I yawn for a bit then tilt my body closer to the window, wincing at the slight pinch of pain that pull

Alexander He gritted his teeth as he studied the image of his lycan above the marbled mantlepiece. The painting was done by a royal pack member, Paul Cezanne in 1858. The worth of the art was invaluable like the artist himself. No matter how much he tried to relax, it was impossible. His wolf was snarling and roaring in his head, wanting blood on his sharp canines. The blood of the enemy. A fucking necromancer. He will tear him piece by piece by nightfall tomorrow.

After meticulously crafting the intricate design on his back, I stepped back to admire my handiwork, a sense of satisfaction coursing through me as I surveyed the detailed depiction of the monstrous creature now permanently etched into his skin. With a silent click, I captured a photo of the finished tattoo on my phone, a quiet celebration of my skill and defiance in the face of his dominance. I chuckled inwardly, imagining the look on his face when he sees what I've done. Turning my attention back to the task at hand, I carefully cleaned and sterilized the area, ensuring that the tattoo was properly sealed to facilitate the healing process. Despite his werewolf abilities, I knew that the me

They had been givin a bad reputation of being murderous beast, thanks to the humans who told such horrible lies. These werewolves were the descendants of the moon. A better way of explaining it would be that the moon was their own version of God. She was the one who created the werewolf breed herself. She was or is the Moon Goddess. It was said that she gave them a very special gift, the ability to feel or sense who their true mate is. Its called the mate bond which is avery strong feeling that either one would beable to feel when they are close to one another. Like what a soul mate would be for humans. The wolf people had many tribes or packs, as they were called. Each pack would have a mal

Alpha King certainly didn't want many other werewolves to know about this place either. "How are werewolves chasing me?" I asked Alpha King in a low voice. I really wanted to know how Alpha King saved me and how the bad werewolves are now. “Unfortunately, I let the leader run away.” Alpha King sighed, "Don't worry, I know his face, I'll draw his face." I said hastily. "Can you draw?" Alpha King asked back in surprise. "Even though I don't study art, I draw very well." I smiled.

Jim was getting bored watching Cassie and Mitch staring at each other awkwardly. Jim needed to see some action, some telenovela shit go down, werewolf style. So he made the first move, since Mitch was looking like an idiot with drool wetting his chin and pre-cum wetting the front of his pants. Jim could smell the fool's arousal. It was disgusting.