Biker Wolf Novels & Stories

I wanted to see what kind of wolf he was. He played before stripping before me. He kept his eyes down like he was afraid to look at me. The changes to his body happened slowly and painfully. It took over an hour. I could tell the man was trying not to make noise. The werewolf's groans, muffled cries, and finally, his bitten back screams filled the night. Add this kind of slow and painful transition to the list of things that never occurred to me. The biker was finally full wolf before me. He cowered down until his belly was pushing into the ground. He slowly rolled over; tail curled up against his stomach, throat stretched out, eyes closed. He was so terrified at this point; he piddled on hi

He looked around, noted the MC businesses (a tattoo studio and a bar, somehow both compulsory when talking about biker clubs), and just the sight of them made him long for Blue Dragon and Satan’s so badly, he thought he might crack in two. He grabbed his duffel from the back seat, slung it over his shoulder. His whole life was packed in this bag – Wolf had learned to travel light as a kid, back when he’d kept a packed backpack in his closet – and he knew that it was more than enough for him to function. All he needed now was to confirm that Viper expected him to live in the clubhouse, though Wolf was positive that’d be the way things shook out. After all, if he had an enemy in his house, he’

I didn't respond. Nor slow down. Because I had shifted into the white wolf, it was impossible for him nor his men to catch up with me because of how fast my wolf was. So now he had resorted to using cheap tricks to scare me. “I will grant you the Luna title if that is what you want. Are you still interested in joining the pack's biker team? I will grant you access to it regardless of your status as an omega. Just stop, I'll do all you want me to,” he continued, his voice softer and almost pleading.

“Well, it looks like trouble found you.” I sighed, feeling the usual anger begin to churn in my gut. I despised having to deal with trash like this guy. I moved closer, my eyes narrowing. “Get lost.” The guy smirked. “And if I don’t?” Without speaking, I allowed my wolf to surface. My eyes turned a piercing gold, and I felt my muscles grow slightly. A low growl echoed from my chest, causing the very ground to shake beneath us. The bikers each took a step back as they sensed the threat drawing near.

“You don’t know who I am. My last name is Erickson. My name is Victor Erick—” “You need to leave,” Waylon says to the doctor, “We’ll handle this.” Victor Erickson, a name dipped in notoriety and fear, even to this day. The doctor blanches, scanning between the three of them as the puzzle pieces click. What kind of man comes in with a gunshot wound to the head and acts so flippant about it after the fact. It could only be that man, one and the same, the Black Wolf. “Of course,” the doctor says, bowing and ducking out of the room like a dog with its tail between its legs.

Apart from the teeth, the fur and the yellow eyes, it was still Oscar. "Karen!" He growled, and I tried to grab on to him, but he was too big. Realising his size was too big, he shifted back to himself. The fur teeth and yellow eyes were gone, and I grabbed him and turned him to lay on his back, but he sat up instead. I began to ride his c*ck. I watched his eyes shift from yellow to blue. His wolf was going crazy. He suckled my n**ples and licked them. I bent backwards slight and turned my head up with my eyes closed to make the feeling more intense. I was in a different world. I was dripping wet all over him, and he was helping me grind him.

They sniffed the air, picking up on the distinctive scent of the Quercia and set off behind the buildings and into the nearby small stretches of land still covered in trees, away from human eyes. Feeling the ground beneath him vibrate with the hundreds of varying sources cleared his mind; he homed in on the unmistakable movements of a wolf and sped up. A few yards ahead he spotted the pale, mixed coloring of a pack member and signaled to Gil to get around him. The underling caught wind of them and attempted to throw them off by taking to the alleys, but Gil arrived to cut off the path. Victor dove in on him from behind, aiming for the shoulder with a shallow bite.

"Sorry, I can’t." Unexpectedly, I spot the tall, handsome, dark-haired, and green-eyed wolf, Brette Grimwald exiting the school. At that moment I was clueless about what else Sophia was saying to me. Every part of me was focused only on him. The future alpha. It was as if we were the only two people in the world. I watch him as he walks to his bike. He reaches for his black helmet, steadily places it onto his head, and climbs onto his bike. I envy his bike. How long I have yearned for his manly legs to climb over me instead. I bite my bottom lip, aroused by the thought of it, and wish I could replay him climbing and sitting on his bike repeatedly. His black BMX bike starts, giving off a very

The first real test came a week later. It wasn’t claws at the boundary. It was paperwork. A young wolf from a neighboring neutral pack was admitted to the hospital after a “construction accident.” The injuries didn’t match the explanation. Defensive wounds. Blunt force trauma inconsistent with a fall. I didn’t react outwardly. I never do. But I called Jaron once I had the scans. “He’s not neutral,” I said quietly from my office. “He’s bait.” There was a pause on the other end. “How?” he asked.