Fictional Native American Novels & Stories

This is a map of the Silver Pack! I start to read the note closer now. So, I trust you have heard this story before? How an alpha’s daughter came upon a group of humans hiding in a cave? Following the Goddess, she saved them and offered them protection? This is actually how our pack came to be. A group of Native Americans were run off of their lands and hunted, the human history calls this the ‘Trail of Tears.’ During this time many died due to starvation, illness, and murder. This group is only one of many that found sanctuary in the mountains surrounding us.

I am glad Dad stills calls me same name and I believe I would do well because he says so. It is with shaky legs that I mount the podium in front of my mates. I am not the type that talks a lot among peers. I am sure Mr. Winchester is staring at me from across the room. "Hello peeps. " I am nervous and I know it's obvious. " So as most of y'all know, I am Navajo from Utah. I was brought up on folklores. So I guess studying American history helps me know more about my people and maybe one day, I can let the world know more about us. " My confidence continues to rise as I speak.

Archer said and I nodded with red cheeks. “You must live in a very nice place,” I said with embarrassment. “The tribes on the Reservation have fascinating myths and legends.” Archer's eyes twinkled differently. “Do you know as much about my culture as they know everything?” Archer asked curiously. “I'm not that basic,” I said, offended, and that made Archer laugh. “I know what my father knows.” “Your father knows a lot about the reservation?” asked Archer with a frown. “My father is a historian,” I said and smiled. “He taught on the reservation before he adopted me. If there's anyone objective about it, it's him, but it's not equal to what a native might know.”

“We’re looking for more of the same type of work you’ve already done for us, though you may not have known it at the time.” I waited for a moment for him to continue, which he obliged to do. “Last year, when you were consulted regarding the differences between different Native American tribal traditions regarding skinwalkers, your insight resulted in the capture of one and the saving of many lives of those who would have been its victims.” “The capture of a skinwalker?” I was so incredulous that I caught myself being open-mouthed and shut it, quickly composing myself. This guy seemed serious, completely sincere and straight in his delivery.

I really don't know where he's going with this. "Are you talking about shapeshifters? I read somewhere about Native Americans being able to shape-shift." He smiles slightly. "Yes, that's sort of what I'm talking about. There are people who can shift from human to animal. I'm one of those people. I can change from human to animal." Interesting. I must still be unconscious because I swear he just told me he can change from a human to an animal. If I'm dreaming, I guess I'll go along with it.

I don't think they'll buy I lost my memory so I'll keep it a secret for now. "There's no problem, it really doesn't bother me. Did you manage to decide something?" "Yes" says Anne "we don't trust you, pervert, but we know you're harmless. A native like you wouldn't stand a chance against us so don't get any weird ideas, got it?" "What do you mean native?" Anne sighs heavily as she extends a hand out as if it's obvious. "That's what you are, a savage born in these lands. We are heroes summoned from another world."

We absorbed many Native American shifters who’s packs and tribes were wiped out, despite fierce fighting and support from us. There was a shaman here within the Sioux Nation. He was a great seer of our world, living several hundred years. Time was not marked as well in those days, but he was ancient. Beyond ancient, really. He foretold of a day, many years into the future, after his death, where the strongest Alpha shifter, with the most noble of hearts, will be mated to a worthy, innocent and humble human female who bears the mark of the royal line. They will bring about the new royals and together, their offspring will reign in an era of peace, prosperity and light for all shifters.

Before they finally settled down here in Chicago. They are from an endless line of dark-skinned Native Americans. The Creek Tribe! My mom’s family are all mixed up. They are part of the light-skinned Choctaw Tribe, also Irish and African. Seeing us walk in. They all looked up, stunned. I see them sniff the air deeply. They gasp, their eyes go wide with shock. They gaze bewildered at each other. My heart is beating so fast right now. I know I have to tell them about us now. But a part of me sort of feels like they have a clue as to why we are here. By how they’re looking at us right now. I greet them shyly, smiling nervously. I wave. “Hey, y’all..”

She knew she’s told him about the suppression spell having just been removed. “This creature reminds me a lot of some of the native tales about horrors in the woods. I always thought they were told to keep the white man away. Now, however, I’m wondering how many people died during pioneer times because they didn’t listen to the warnings of the native folk.” Franco was flipping through a printout from Ebony’s mother about the wight.

“This is Cherokee land, and has been for hundreds of years. Your Russian has a bad soul no doubt and the Ancient ones don’t like it when their eternal rest is bothered. Especially by someone with bad intentions.” “Oh…” Paige looked a little green. “My foster family was part Cherokee and they used to tell me stories of the old ways. I think I know what you are speaking about. But wow, isn’t that a rare thing? I mean don’t you have to walk over like where the Ancients are buried or something?” “It appears this man has, according to my Uncle. So, did you believe them?” Breed wanted to know. “Your foster family I mean. About the Indian stories?”