Black Wyvern Novels & Stories

Then he came. He rose from the crack in the earth like a shadow with bones. Tall, taller than any wolf or man. His skin looked like it was made of black rock and smoke. His eyes gleamed the same silver as Freya’s but blazing with purple fire. Twisted horns curled from his head, and long claws hung from his fingers. Veyrix. The ancient wolf-god. The monster we were never meant to see awake. No one said a word. We just watched. He looked at the wolves around him, then turned his head slowly… until his eyes met mine.

I stood there as a massive black hybrid creature, half-dragon, half-wolf, eyes burning bright blue. But I wasn’t the only one shifting. Crux watched me for barely a breath… and then he shifted too. And he did it casually. Effortlessly, like shedding skin. His form exploded outward, bigger than mine three times over. His wings stretched so wide they brushed the walls. His scales were blacker than night itself, drinking in every trace of light. Vanta Black, a rage dragon leader’s color, almost invisible at night. He was darker than the shadows. Only his molten eyes glowed fiercely, ancient, superior can be seen. He was the leader of Rage Dragon who he inherited from his mother.

Since I am the newest household help, I don’t have the power to say no to the task given. The flower was said to have healing properties, especially from insect bites. As I started to take my journey to the dark forest, my thoughts came rushing inside my head. This place was filled and dominated by creatures that were way stronger than I am. A mere human like me had no match for the strength possessed by werewolves and witches. That thought alone makes me shiver to the bones. I swallowed the invisible lump in my throat. The sky was a deep purple hue, the clouds were dense and the moon was out of sight, making it more difficult to see the surroundings.

The creatures didn’t move. Yet. I gripped the reins and led her backward, step by cautious step. Don’t run. Don’t turn your back. Don’t blink. Then— The shadows surged. No warning. No sound. Just movement. They poured from the back of the cave like smoke with claws. Skinless things wearing bone masks, their bodies twisted, their breath wheezing like broken flutes. I recognized them. They were Wyrmfangs. Blood sucking creatures that always attack their prey in packs. They were capable of bringing down even the strongest adversary by the might of their numbers. Learning about them in school was nice and all but seeing them charging at me was a different feeling entirely.

Standing on the wolf's side is a large black panther; on the other is an enormous white tiger. “Let me introduce you, gentlemen, to Bliz, Nightshade, and Onyx. They are the ones you have to get past to life.” Byanca growls. “They love a good chase and they haven’t had fun in a while now.” Breayna sighs.

Next they fell into the ravine, while Welkin just stared at them from above as he shook his head in annoyance at the noise of the children with him. He was about to jump into the ravine to follow when someone suddenly pushed him, causing him to jump into a big tree. He could no longer reach his sword which spewed in the distance. The wolf's plumage is black and its eyes are blue. It slowly walked closer to Welkin as its saliva continued to drip. ... Ataraxis POV

She had to be losing her mind. She looked down at the book again and carefully turned the page. "As only a few mythical creatures can claim," she read, "werewolves have been described throughout different parts of the world for centuries. In the last century, several werewolf sightings have been recorded. The werewolf legend has spread across borders, even across seas and oceans. The shapeshifter wolf has the ability to change form at any time. Aggressive energy or anger may increase the likelihood of causing an unintentional transformation, so such shifters are cautioned to practice extreme discipline and self-control. Black and white werewolves, particularly, are also able to maintain the

The black veins pulsed, glowing with a faint, sickening violet light under his skin—the unmistakable mark of dark alchemy. My mind raced, frantically sifting through every ledger, every obscure manuscript I had ever transcribed in my father's deep archive. Wyvern's gall wasn't just a poison; it was a curse-bound venom. Physical medicine couldn't flush it out. Only an equal, inverted magical current could stall the rot.

The talons on his paws were sinking into the twilight mire and bringing him to a halt. The wyverns were waving their leathery wings, but the air around them became too viscous. Nature hadn’t given them much of a defense against magic, so now, they were coughing and spitting soot-colored mucus. Only the griffon and the two hydras didn’t encounter any obstacles. The griffon flew higher so he could stab his claws into his victim from a height, the hyrdras slowly moving closer. Their teeth were already gnashing, as they neared the imperturbable necromancer and frightened Angelina who were surrounded by a cocoon of the Dark.

He was teetering dangerously as blood dripped from the griffin's wounds. Out of the branches a group of lizard-like monsters launched toward the lion-eagle. The wyverns, two footed dragons about the size of a man, were blood thirsty and hunted in packs. When they smelled the griffin's wounds, they instinctively flew to attack their prey. Unable to fight against so many foes, the griffin careened into the foliage under the weight of the wyverns. Devrim grasped wildly at the branches as the group fell mercilessly to the ground. —————