Fantasy Werewolf Art Novels & Stories

That's the kind of person I strive to be, and that's what keeps me fighting, clinging to this fragile thread of life with all that I am. In the encompassing darkness that envelopes my vision, the moon's celestial radiance pierces through, unveiling the divine presence that stands before me. It's as if the moon itself has taken form, radiant and ethereal, with fur that shimmers like stardust, and an aura of maternal warmth that envelops me. This is the Moon Goddess, the legendary figure woven into the tapestry of werewolf folklore. And here she stands, materialized before me, in all her majestic glory.

I didn’t try to get the scene behind my eyes like I usually try to, I let it play again this time, relieving when the kiss happened, sleep welcomed me without me knowing. I saw a wolf, a huge black wolf. I looked around trying to figure out where I was but all I could see was a maze of trees, my heart thundered. The wolf standing a few feet away from me it didn't look like it was a normal wolf, it was more compared to the a wolf. It had black furs and long sharp pointed canine that looked sharp enough to rip iron apart. It stared at me like a predator stalking its prey, waiting for the perfect moment to lunge.

We went by a couple of rooms, then the living room, the fireplace, treasure room and yes, he even showed me just how many bathrooms can fit an entire house packed with werewolves can possibly have, which was thoughtful enough for him. And then we found ourselves standing in a large room surrounded by an abundance of paintings. For a moment I was astonished at how these art pieces were crafted exquisitely and with finesse. I couldn't quite take my eyes off one of the paintings of a partially naked woman, and a nightshade black wolf both covered with blood lying lifeless on the ground. Everything about it somehow brought out the sorrow in me, allowing me to symphatize with whoever the painter

’ I murmur through the link, leaning in to kiss her just when the next item is announced, the title catching my attention. “This one is by an anonymous benefactor called ‘The Moon’s Sacrifice’.” I peck her lips and move back as both Valerie and I turn and look at the image that contains a stark moon, trees, darkness and… a half-man, half-wolf impaled on a cross. A murmur sifts through the crowd and the sound of a chair scraping makes me turn and a man, who I’m certain is a werewolf, although I can’t really sense his wolf, leaves the room, causing a ripple of whispers in his wake.

"Are you alright?" Leonardo asked as he placed a cup of hot cocoa beside Hazel while smiling approvingly at the art she painted. "It's beautiful. What inspired such a painting?" he asked as he sat beside her on the rooftop. The painting was of a red flower with a diamond hanging in its middle. Surrounding the flower were countless werewolves howling towards the bright full moon.

The sorcerers scattered to the sides. The white-headed man straightened up with difficulty and took a deep breath. The King of Reeta looked around the place of the fight and walked in a circle, approaching Radolyub. Tight muscles rolled under his skin, powerful paws stepped elastically on the ground, there was not even a hint that he was tired or exhausted. The sorcerer involuntarily retreated. The silver eyes of the werewolf flashed with a dead light, reflecting nothing but the icy emptiness of the dead world. Witchcraft is nothing, it will not help, it will not stop. The werewolf suddenly froze, turned sharply, one of the surviving sorcerers threw up his hand with a black stone clamped in

I smiled before grabbing the canvas and facing it front for them to see it all. After seeing my art, all of them gasped and my heart was fluttering seeing their eyes sparkling with amazement. “Oh my goodness! This is exactly what we have in mind!” Larry said with tears on the side of his eyes. On the canvas, the moon took center stage, luminous and grand, casting its silvery glow over the scene. Below, in the shadowy depths of the woods, I drew, werewolves prowled, their fur streaked with crimson red highlights that glinted in the moonlight.

I heard Bazaar. I then know what the dark smoke was. It was wolfbane the substance they discovered to kill and weaken a wolf. The wolfsbane was now causing me difficulty breathing. My eyes run water and my vision became blurry still I didn't close my eyes. My eyes remained half-opened until I saw the dark dust that surrounded us slowly disappeared. When it did everyone within the wall was lying on the floor still and scared. It was not easy seeing them since my vision was still a bit blurry, but there was one image I could see clearly, and that was a white large werewolf that appears to be a she-wolf lying on the ground with a knife in its heart, covered in bright red blood. Bazaar walked ov

The cover was embossed with a symbol that looked like a twisted, enraged claw mark. Nate crossed the room, the ghost sense of Kieran’s touch still tingling on his skin. He stood beside his chair, close enough to feel the warmth coming from him, and peered down at the pages. The script was old, but the images were brutally clear: depictions of wolves, but different. They were monstrously big, their musculature exaggerated and vicious, with four separate, scary sets of fangs in their gaping maws.

Shifting to early is often painful, causing the others still in the veil to share the pain. Braxton seemed satisfied with that answer. Considering he could no longer feel her and she was safe. Fascinated by the lore and legends he pushed me to keep reading. Flipping through the most recent book she had given me “Rare and Mythical Werewolf breeds” a full page drawing caught Braxton’s attention. “What’s that?” He asked. The drawing depicted a wolf standing upright, looking half human but definitely wolf. The head of a wolf, body covered in hair. Hands and fingers elongated into claws. Massive muscles bulging.