Big Werewolf Novels & Stories

“No more. I can’t take any more right now.” He lifted his head and grinned wickedly at me. “Alright, I’ll leave your clit alone. But I mean to mount you, little wolf. I’m done waiting.” * * * Finally, my Big Bad Werewolf was done waiting. He pushed my thighs open as far as they would go and he mounted me. His cock was massive and he had to rock his hips back and forth to holster himself, inch-by-inch. The she-wolf in me had completely surrendered to him, I got no say in the matter, apparently.

The frantic pounding of my heart grows ever so violently against my chest. I can feel the frigid warmth of their body heat ricocheting through me; like an ironic joke compared to the ice-cold shiver consuming my entire body. I can’t move, I can’t think, and I can’t breathe. Like I'm stuck, paralyzed from the head down. Could it be the wolf shifter from 7 years ago? Is this really my last day? But even if so, I decide I will not go down without a fight.

He´s shirtless. “Laura. What are you doing here? Did you find Liam?” “Yes. Everything´s been sorted out with Liam now. However, something also happened last night at the Knox Manor.” “What happened?” “We were attacked by an uberwolf.” “What´s an uberwolf?” “It´s a black werewolf, only this one is far larger and stronger. It nearly took all of us down. Nolan was badly injured, although he´s okay now.” “I´m relieved that you´re all right.”

he revealed which surprised the human. “You mean… those from myths? How do you even know they’re real?” ‘Because I am a werewolf.’ Tyr answered in his head but immediately brush it off, afraid that Zane might hear his unspoken words again. Instead, he tore a piece of his cloth to casually wrap it around his classmate’s arm to stop the bleeding. Zane just let the other guy aid his arm as he is starting to feel the sting from the scratch. “Zeev and I moved in Tilbury to hunt rogues as they are very dangerous to humans. That’s why we are always out here during full moons because they are uncontrollable during those times,” he honestly told.

Beneath its quiet charm lies a battleground for forces older than time, a sanctuary guarded by those who walk the line between humanity and the wild. Hugo Griffin is one of them—a caramel-skinned werewolf with jet-black hair and piercing sea-green eyes, a man who commands both awe and fear. Unlike the Alphas of legend, born with the birthright of leadership coursing through their veins, Hugo's story is one of survival and defiance. Bitten, not born, he clawed his way to the top, earning his place as the leader of the Ocean Crest Pack—the most powerful wolf pack on the East Coast. His rise was anything but easy. Every victory came at a price, every step forward marked by blood, betrayal, and

I say, locking eyes with Father, who seems to be thinking the same. “We can’t know if some of the ones in the camp are rabid, though,” Beta Ricardo says, his voice laced with worry. When a werewolf spends too much time without a pack, they start going mad. That’s what we call “rabid”. It’s not an actual disease, it’s just a natural effect of being a rogue. They become extremely violent and dangerous, and harder to fight. “Right now, we have the advantage,” Father weighs in. “They don’t know we’ve rebooted our system and know they’re there.”

And she isn't stopping. Brown wolves are the most common in the werewolf world. After them, comes the auburn wolves that are most common after the brown ones. Then, the second most rare wolves are the black wolves after which white wolves are the rarest, and the purest. White wolves are believed to be the ones who are pure both in heart and soul. l am a white wolf. I am supposed to be pure and kind, yet, I just killed someone. My white fur is stained with the red blood from the rogue on the ground. I can't believe it. What have l done? How did I lose control of myself in that way?

Jossie's POV: There is a beer produced by werewolves called, 'Wolfweiser.' It's brewed and spiked with wolfsbane. It's about the only beer wolves prefer. Because, its effects on us are stronger than the average beer. The cans are purple with the logo in bold gold. There is a wolf howling towards the moon on it. Wolfweiser is used at large backyard parties. There are a few knock-off brands but nothing beats drinking a Wolfweiser. Before I left Nathalie's apartment she gave me a can. "Don't come into work today. Just stay home and try to relax," she insisted. "Drink one of these if you feel like you're about to shift and give me a call."

Diana The Werewolf Council has established a comprehensive education mandate for all wolf pups, regardless of their social standing. This rule ensures that every young werewolf receives at least a basic education, with the level of schooling varying based on their class within the pack hierarchy. At the top, Alpha and Beta offspring naturally receive the most extensive education. Gamma wolves, known for their superior strength and destined to become pack warriors, along with Delta wolves of ordinary strength, both receive education equivalent to college level. While Gammas typically focus on combat training, Deltas have the freedom to specialize in various fields. These two classes form the

"How do you feel?" "Are you okay?" I ignored her question with one of my own. Her eyes shifted to my figure before looking back down on her own and shrugging. "I guess it's better than a mausoleum." My eyes cast downward. "Sorry, bad joke." "Did I hurt you last night?" "No. But...has this happened before?" "When you get to a certain age as a wolf, it's a rite of passage to experience it. I guess kind of like a human's sixteenth birthday or maybe their twenty-first. They do it so we understand what it's like in case we ever encounter it."