Books About Werewolves Novels & Stories

"I am looking for books or journals on werewolves," The librarian nodded and led me to a section dedicated to mythology and urban legends. She handed me a stack of books and journals, cautioning me to handle them with care. "Be careful with these, Officer. Some of them are quite old and delicate." I thanked her and settled into a quiet corner of the library. The dim light from the old-fashioned lamps added to the ambience as I opened the first book. Ancient tales of werewolves and lycanthropy filled the pages, recounting stories of cursed beings who transformed into wolves during full moons.

I retrieved it and found a secluded spot to continue reading. The book described the white wolves as the first werewolves created by the moon goddess. They had extraordinary abilities to heal, control the earth, and communicate directly with the moon goddess. However, their powers made them targets of jealousy and greed. Our ancestors, driven by their desire for power, had waged war against the white wolves, ultimately leading to their near extinction.

Instead, I decided to go to the library that I hadn’t been to yet. I walked in and there was no one there. So people could just go in and take a book if they wanted, but there were tables and chairs, computers and couches set up everywhere. It was actually a really big library for an army base. I started searching through the books until I finally found the ones that I was looking for. The books that had documented white wolves over history. Werewolves were notorious for keeping records and I was glad that they had these books on white wolves.

Most of the books were more ledgers than anything, records of the pack’s history, but there was small section of classic books, some of which appeared to be first editions. Feeling a little excited over the prospect I searched the title, looking at the familiar names, the literary classics, before stopping on a title I had never heard of by an author I didn’t know. I was a big reader I always had been, so it was rare for me to come across an old book that held no recognition whatsoever. With a careful touch I pulled the leather-bound book from the shelf and read through the blurb finding myself amused as I discovered that the book was story of werewolves, apparently written by a human, a fan

Leslie groaned awake as Tara and Zak dragged a table across the shattered window and braced it with chairs. “Tom? You can’t be out of bed,” Leslie said, pushing up on her elbows. “Jakey, what’s happening? What are those animals?” “Werewolves,” Jake said, eyes not leaving the hall. “They’re real.” Tara peeled a slat of the front blinds. “They’re everywhere,” she whispered. “Sniffing. Hunting.” Zak joined her, jaw tight. “Can we make the car?” She checked—froze. “They’re ripping the W.R.X. to pieces.”

The rest of the world could have burned down, and in here, it would still smell like old paper and ink. Perfect. I’d pulled three entire stacks of books around me, a fortress of leather bindings and worn pages: histories of werewolves, dense texts on Lycans, thin, brittle pamphlets about old bloodlines, even obscure case studies of wolfless wolves and the rare, desperate stories of those who’d somehow triggered their first shift late in life. None of it helped.

I went to the inner room to check for a book that could be of help at all. In the dim light of the library hall, I wandered through the aisles, my fingers trailing along different volumes of books. The air was thick with the scent of dusty and old paper. As I turned a corner, an old, leather-bound book caught my eye. Its name cover was wrapped with strange design that seemed to shimmer faintly from the rest. It was the eyes of the rarest species of werewolves...... The white wolves. Curiosity got the better of me, I pulled the book from the shelf and opened it.

Disappointment flashes on her face and she says to go right in. I move my way through the library and check as many ancient werewolf books as possible but there's nothing about natural born golden eyed werewolves or any tribe that seemed to have any. I try the computer and go online, I do research but a bunch of stories and shitty "facts" about werewolves appear all over. I scoff at how stupid all the articles are, these people don't know shit about werewolves. Sighing, I slump back in the chair. This is pointless, I can't find anything here.

"What do you know about werewolves Janette?" The topic elicits a pang of hunger in me and I blink. What do I know about werewolves? Only the smuttiest, most mind-blowing things ever. "I've read some books on them." "Fiction or nonfiction?" I blink again and take some time to consider. Is there really a nonfiction side to werewolves? Aren't they just a creation of the mind? "All the books I've read on them are novels, mostly in the fiction section. I don't think there's anything nonfictional about werewolves."

He pulls up a chair, blows the thick dust off it, and sits down heavily. I feel weird watching him, so instead of just standing there, I turn my attention back to the bookshelves. Most of them are old, cracked, and torn. They all tell stories of the origin of werewolves, the Moon Goddess while others are written in languages I can’t even recognize. I see a book that looks different than the rest and it catches my eyes, especially because it’s covered in more dust than the others. Curious, I reach for it and brush it off.