Civilian Wolves Novel Novels & Stories

Continuing their exploration through the book, he turned to a specific page, and Jennifer bent down to examine a sketch of her wolf. “It’s-” she began. “It’s the rarest kind,” he interrupted, his voice taking on a mysterious tone. “A cursed wolf named ‘Snow.’ A beautiful creature who could blend into the snow with her white coat. But her story took a tragic turn when she fell in love with the head Alpha of a pack, not knowing he was already married to a witch.” As he recounted the tale, he skillfully wove a vivid picture of the forbidden romance between the white wolf and the Alpha, their bond as destined mates, and the rage of the witch when she discovered their connection.

“Thank you, sir. I’m Amerie. Your shop is lovely. Do you have any books or old maps of the surrounding area? I’d love to learn more about my new home.” “Ah, of course. Down the third aisle toward the end you’ll find one book by Caneen alongside some old maps.” He pointed at the aisle. Amerie thanked him and went to the book and maps. She took a bite of the chocolate pastry as she glanced at the shelves. As she walked down the aisle, she noticed small wolves carved into the columns of the bookshelves. The book Tom had mentioned seemed old yet not very worn. The front cover was black with a golden paw print, and the author’s name was in green at the top. The spine of the book read “The Town of

Certainly in werewolf communities. A wolf was a proud and territorial animal. That’s why between Alpha’s who weren’t from the same summit, there were always testosterone driven stand-offs. I remember when Pernwél told me about her first encounter with Alpha Zane at Green Valley, the same way I recalled Beta Nico. Normally ranked wolves gave me shudders, after what happened at my old pack. How things can change, I thought. Now, I, myself was mated to one, becoming Beta of Grey Moon. “All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.” Jake burst through my thoughts carrying wise words on his tongue.

I was the only one who could break the curse by being with all three wolves. I finished cleaning and found the living room in shambles with Winter stacking pieces of the broken coffee table out of the way. As I watched him pick up the aftermath of the fight, I thought of Mayia. She'd risked being torn apart to warn me about the wolves, getting here only minutes before they broke in. If it wasn't for her, I'd have been taken by surprise. I shuddered at the thought. I snatched up a torn, bloody pillow from the floor and tossed it in the discard pile.

"But why? I'm not a part of a pack." "You weren't part of a pack," James corrected. "As a wolf you will never attack a human. That would draw questions and make people start looking up here, not to mention the moral consequences of murder. An outcast wolf doesn't feel that way. He saw you and thought food, easy prey." "So he was going to eat me..." Clara shivered. "Yes, but we knew a lone wolf was close to our lands, someone spotted him recently so we expanded our patrol. I was able to kill him before he finished you off, but we weren't able to make it before he bit you."

Men and women meant to keep the peace during the day. The horse’s fiery manes began to crackle as I neared. I was almost certain their twitching ears and thrashing tails weren’t a good sign, but I had no clue what to do. I’d only ever been around wolves growing up, certainly not horses. Cursing under my breath, I wracked my brain for ideas when the memory of those creatures I’d freed popped into my head. They’d been surrounded by an emerald glow that Azrael insisted had come from Kasar.

I will kill them. But suddenly, something explodes from the underbrush. It isn’t Frank. It is a huge white wolf with blue eyes and boy does it look pissed. It knocks me out of the way. I notice how its fur reflects the moonlight. I have never seen this wolf before and I can’t look away. He is beautiful. The White Wolf bares his fangs as he advances on the three wolves. They whine and scatter. Their tails are low, ears pressed back, as they slink into the shadows like a scolded puppy.

Camila opened her eyes and saw the best thing she had ever expected in her life. She had given up on having a wolf and had accepted that she was a freak and a weak human who was nothing but a punching bag for the werewolves. She giggled, released an excited whimpher, and scanned her eyes around, looking at herself. The soft black fur covering her was blown by the wind, releasing her scent all over the forest as if making her dominance clear. On inhaling the new scent, the rogue wolves didn't dare run to her and attack her like they did with the new wolves, but bowed their heads and ran to hide in their caves. The scent was enough to scare them away because it made breathing difficult. The wo

I hated how steadying it felt. I stepped back before I could think too hard about that. "Just — explain. You said you'd seen this before. What did you mean?" "There's a novel," he said. "About a wolf warrior who enrolls at an academy and starts shifting into a black wolf instead of the rare white wolf she was born with. No one can explain it. Not at first." My pulse spiked. "Who wrote it?" "Sophie Miller, I think." The name hit me like a blow to the chest. The world tilted, sound rushing out of my ears until all I could hear was my own heartbeat, deafening.

“Don’t waste your breath, beautiful. You can’t learn us to be civilized. We’re wolves.” He pulled his finger away, and I said, “Raven is a wolf, too. She’s not a slob.” “Raven is a rarity, an enigma. Sort of like you. You wanna come into the house to chat, or did you want to stand around out here?”