Feather And Tristan Werewolf Novel Novels & Stories

"Wynn and I knew something was off. We left the party early, grabbed this cake, and raced back. But by the time we pushed the door open, his wolf was already gone." Trista didn't move. Cassian was four years older than her. She was twenty-seven; he was frozen at thirty-one. Just a few hours ago, she had triumphantly announced it was her "year of rebirth." She never imagined that at that exact moment, Cassian's world was ending. They walked into the master bedroom. Everything was exactly as she remembered, but Trista's clinical instincts immediately picked up the heavy, metallic scent of blood—the distinct smell of an Alpha's life force collapsing under extreme strain.

Tristan said, "Silver soaked in wolf's bane. Can take out an entire army." The werewolf shifted back into his human form and said, "The Silver Crescent Pack would come for you at some point. Alpha Jasper will have your..." Tristan didn't let him speak before firing a bullet straight into his head. The man's body convulsed and dropped down to the ground lifeless.

Her smile, a gentle curve, softened her features, revealing a vulnerable heart beneath her tough exterior. When in motion, Rosalind was a fluid, graceful creature, her limbs unfolding like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. Her scent, a sweet blend of honey and lavender, wafted around her like a subtle aura, entrancing all who crossed her path. As she transformed into her werewolf form, Rosalind's body shimmered, a golden light enveloping her like a cloak. Her senses heighten, her senses expanding as she surrenders to the wild, primal power coursing through her veins. Back in her human form, a shining aura surrounded her, escalated by her excited mood. "Tristan is a graduate of West Point

The masculine and terrifying wolf was being gently bathed in an ice blue colored moonlight, that shone through the wall of glass behind me. “Tristan?” I nervously questioned the wolf. It slowly pulled it's lips up and over its sharp teeth then snarled at me. I quickly held my hands out in front of me defensively and shifted back slightly on the bed. The gray wolf lunged forwards snapping at me. “TRISTAN PLEASE NO!” I cried out to the wolf, but it wasn't backing down. I had no idea what had gotten into him, had he gone mad? Wait, this has got to be one of those delusions, or hallucinations, that Tristan was talking about? I quickly thought to myself. There is no way in hell he would attack me

But suddenly, Tristan felt the slightest change in his confidence and he became hesitant in his movements, allowing Stefano to slip past his defenses and bite his arm. Tristan hissed at the contact but he quickly bent his head to bite at Stefano's neck. He succeeded, but only for a while, as Stefano's frost-tipped claws scratched his face. Tristan backed away, putting his paw against his bleeding eye, waiting for it to heal. But it took longer than it usually did, and his bloodthirsty wolf was eager to advance again towards Stefano despite his injury. It took all of Tristan's might to convince it to heal itself first.

Tristan slid to a stop, sneer on his face. "Daniel. Isn't it time for you to die?" At that, he shifted and leapt at Daniel, clamping onto his shoulder and yanking him to the side. I lost track of him after that as three warriors surrounded me. "Give it up. You're outnumbered on our territory. You won't make it." They tried taunting me. I just smiled. Lunging toward the one with the big mouth, I slashed my blade across his neck. One down, two to go. The other two were smarter and backed up out of reach. One shifted; his mangy brown wolf was barely tall enough to reach my chest. He snapped at me, saliva dripping from his canines. As he tried to herd me towards his partner, I sidestepped, slici

Only its agonizing cries indicated that it was still alive. Amidst the strong smell of blood, a familiar taste came from its mouth. It was the taste of Gray Tail's flesh. Tristan forcefully closed his eyes, thinking of the gray-black werewolf that always followed behind him. He inherited a business empire in the human world thanks to his grandmother's efforts. He thrived in the human world where pure humans' money could buy the tenderest meat. He had plenty of money, and he accepted werewolves who sought refuge with him, unintentionally saving some of them.

The moonlight reflected off the water's surface, creating an almost magical atmosphere. That's when I heard it—a howl that raised every hair on my body. It was beautiful and haunting, filled with loneliness and longing. I turned and froze. A massive wolf stood at the edge of the clearing. Its fur was jet black with silver highlights that seemed to shimmer in the moonlight. Its eyes were the same silver as Kieran's human eyes, and they were fixed intently on me. "Kieran?" I whispered. The wolf huffed, which I took as confirmation.

She will tread carefully though because she knew deep down that she could not trust him to keep his word when the chips were down. “Vak Smallchief is not my blood brother. My mother married his father after mine died when I was still a young boy. He came into his werewolf power in his youth when he had become a well-respected warrior in the land. I begged to be converted into a werewolf too and he obliged. I was made a white werewolf because of my fair hair, and so I thought it fitting to name myself Whitehound. That was how I became Nikjin Whitehound, but I was never a Smallchief. We are not related by blood.” “I see…” said Erin, intrigued by this new revelation from her captor. “Which mean

Its throat bobbed in agony. “Awooo!” A very thunderous growl came from nowhere, shaking the ground where lifeless wolves were lying. The wolves, who are still very much alive, trembled, turning in the direction of the loud growl. This growl made Cassius’ wolf, Odin, release Xavier’s wolf from his bared fang, and he turned to where the growl was coming from to attack who might be the source of the growl. *** Tristan's POV