Cry Wolf Novels & Stories

As I said not even the Dark Lord himself can stop me. How can your tiny kindness stop me? Try me but you won’t win. However, I m enjoying every moment right now. I m loving the moment where one she-wolf is lying to her packs. Moreover, she is not an ordinary she-wolf. She is the daughter of the great Alpha Drake and great Luna Drusilla. She is betraying her kind. Not only I was saved but I can see conflicts in between their packs. And how lovely is that? I can now no longer wait to make her fall in love. Debra, brace yourself. I m coming for you.

I knew that the wolf was calling to me, inviting me to join it on a journey through the forest. With a sense of excitement and curiosity, I followed the howl, weaving my way through the trees and underbrush. The wolf's presence grew stronger, and soon, I found myself face to face with a majestic white wolf with huge wings. Its eyes were the same icy blue as mine, and there was a profound sense of recognition between us. We communicated not through words, but through a deep understanding that transcended language. The white wolf turned and began to lead me deeper into the forest, and I followed willingly. It was as if we were bound by destiny, embarking on a journey that would reveal the true

I was about to tell them that Derek Novak owned me and harming me would be a big mistake, but was interrupted by Husky before I could speak. “Who cares?” he spoke up. “Anyone who walks past the forest and reaches the fortress is under our mercy. I’m sure her master will thank us for teaching the insolent slave a lesson.” His finger traced one of the scratches on my legs, drawing blood with his protruding claw. He took a whiff of the blood and smiled before tasting it. He smiled. “Sweet.” It was Pitchy who seemed apprehensive. “Perhaps we shouldn’t touch her. We don’t know who owns her.” Still, his eyes were on me, his free hand running the length of my arm.

I had hope that it wouldn't just happen now. But like every other year, at this point I would wish that my name wasn't my name. I would wish that I wasn't Allison Bush, the last air of the Bush who actually is the only one that turns into a full wolf on a full moon. I was trying to run from that and some other things.. But then again, you can't run away from yourself!!

Lethal. A shadow streaking through fire and ash— I, Xavier Da La Vega, the Black Wolf, born from pain and purpose. I howled—not a challenge. A plea. The golden wolf’s gaze fixed on the woman huddled protectively over her child. "NO...please no...," The woman cried and begged.

Her hands steadied, map glowing faintly, courage blooming, the hum a threat, walls looming. A howl tore through the ravine—metal screeching, frost cracking, shadows lunging from the pass, iron-clad wolves, ice-blue eyes blazing, claws glinting, led by Veyra, pale blonde braid flashing, ice-blue eyes wet, frost-gray furs swirling, iron scars glowing. “Your blood seals it, Lykos!” she snarled, Frost, her wolf, roaring, white and relentless, charging Sam, claws aimed at her heart.

“Little wolf, I thought I told you to stay in your room.” “The flames were—” The second form, much larger than Azrael’s, stepped from the shadows and into my line of sight. Deep in my heart I knew the mountain of a man, with skin and hair as pale as moonlight itself, was Draco. God of the Lycans. His eyes, both covered with a sheen that made them glow in the dark, almost like a canine’s, were trained on my face. The warning bells in my head screeched: “Danger, predator, get away fast!”

To give the howl a voice, Lunara shaped four Primordial Wolves, each born from a different aspect of herself: Solmir, the Wolf of Dawn, and bringer of warmth and wind who was made from her light. Veyla, the Wolf of Dusk, bringer of mystery and forests who was drawn from her shadow. Kaelstrom, the Wolf of Storms, and bringer of lightning, rain, and rivers who was formed from her silver tears Nerath, the Shadowless Wolf, and keeper of secrets and the unseen who was shaped from pure void.

BACK AT BLACKRIDGE After tossing and turning for hours, I finally drifted off. And then the nightmare came, again. This time, it was different. More confusing. I was standing in a creepy forest, the kind that made your skin crawl. In front of me was a huge wolf. But its eyes—blue and humanlike stared into mine. “Please, Kyra, help me. My father’s going to kill me... please,” it whimpered, tears rolling down its face. I froze. My chest ached watching it cry. I’d never seen a wolf cry before, but this one felt... familiar. Dear. I looked around, the place was Kyratth.

I pulled the small silver vial from my pocket, unstoppered it with my thumb, and looked Ford straight in his glowing eyes. "I gave you one warning," I whispered. Before Ford could leap, a deafening, terrifying roar echoed from the deep timber behind us. The ground vibrated violently under our feet as a massive, obsidian-black wolf crashed through the brush, its jaw dripping with pure Alpha aura. It was Celt Hawkridge—the ruthless heir of the Hawkridge Pack. Ford and his enforcers instantly hit the dirt, their necks exposed in absolute, terrifying submission as Celt's massive form loomed over them, his crimson eyes locked entirely on me.