Fictional Owls Novels & Stories

Before we could get too carried away, an owl’s call woke us from what we were doing, and Alex moved his face from mine. “I have to get rid of these bodies,” he whispered. I pulled him in for one more kiss, brushing my hands through his bloody beard. “Okay.” He got up and sprinted back toward his car, opening his trunk, which surprisingly still worked. I was unsteady on my legs, but found I was able to get up, relying on my left arm as my right shoulder was still sore. I limped over to him, and he helped me put on some sweatpants and a sweatshirt that he pulled out of a duffel bag. Once he was also dressed, he started hauling the bodies into the woods. I did my best to help, following him as

Neither was overly aggressive, but they were both on edge, waiting for the need to fight if necessary. “Who is it?” The dark charcoal-coated wolf was a stranger to me, but then I had only seen Brodie and Rachelle in wolf form. I looked into his eyes, but it gave me no more clues. His eyes didn’t seem as fiery as Brodie’s, they were softer almost. They were nearly completely grey, just like their fur, but had bright purple flecks dotted throughout their iris. There was a kind of gentleness there and I realised it was Jackson before Brodie even had the chance to tell me.

The white wolf watched his mate with pride as she explained to her cousins. The wolves continued to howl until the flames had died down and the last embers were burned out. Carr took Lee's hand, sent his thanks to his pack, and then left with the bereaved families to talk further. As they walked away the owl took flight, calling to his mate in a low-pitched but loud ho-ho-hoo hoo hoo. Carr looked up and smiled at the ghostly apparition as he winged his way across the sky. A good omen.

Then, looking upward toward the sound, I growled, "Go away, you creepy mother fucker!" Few things bothered me. But the fact an owl could turn its head until it was looking over its shoulder and keep going until it's eerie yellow eyes were looking over the opposite shoulder, did. And I sure as shit didn't need its mythical omen at the moment—whether true or not—I didn't want a supposed harbinger of death screeching above my head.

She called out into the trees. Ruffling of feathers answered her from somewhere above. Aria craned her neck to look up. The only being was a large, brown, spotted owl staring at her with round golden eyes. It spread its broad wings and floated down to a lower branch. “Why?” The owl asked again. “What?” Aria asked, confused. He wasn’t referring to the rabbit, was he? “Kill.” The owl turned his head upside down and blinked. “I hunger.” She said slowly, then wondered how the bird could understand her… and she him? Never before had she talked with another creature using voices. Except Morgan, of course. And she still hadn’t figured that one out.

I must admit, it’s such a stupid thing to be going after an unknown ghostly voice that i do not even recognize. My head turned to where the indistinct voice was coming from. My feet involuntarily move backwards towards the front door of the house that now feels so incredibly far from where I am. My eyes widened as I stared into 2 big yellow eyes that just appeared under the dark shadows of the trees. I could hear a low growl coming out from the big wolf. I have never seen this wolf before in my life but I have a strong feeling that he doesn’t belong here.

I am sure this porch is not big enough for all of us. Joceline is standing in the middle of the yard. There are probably a hundred boars and owls around her. Our mouths fall open as the boars and owls start to turn into humans. Are there such things as boar and owl shifters? I have never heard or seen them. But, I guess we are going to find out.

" Old Owl Lake? What is it?" Celesta asked interrupting my retelling of the past. " It's a valley with a large lake where an old owl spirit lives. You may say it's its turf." Sir Elijah answered " Does not sound that bad." Celesta commented. " It will if I told you that if someone tries to cross the Old Owl Lake valley and the Old Owl spirit catches them. It asks them three questions and kills them in a very gruesome way if they are unable to answer even one of the questions." I informed making Celesta' pupil wide.

Everyone agreed. King Ortiz didn't waste a second. He stood, went to his private shelf, opened a carved wooden cage, and lifted out the little owl-tiny, white-furred, its eyes like glowing pearls. The room fell still. He whispered into its feathers. The owl blinked once... stretched its wings... and hopped to the center of the table. Every gaze followed it. Its eyes gleamed. The air shifted. Magic hummed. The little owl hopped twice across the table, claws clicking softly on the polished stone.

Who would see a damn bird that has glowing eyes? Arth furrowed his brows in wonder. It was no regular owl, he knew. He could sense some magical energy on the bird—it was being controlled. Why the hell would someone spy and peek at him sleeping? Unless… Arth swallowed the lump on his throat, as the wide, glowing eyes of the owl stared at him. Chills ran down through his body. He slowly picked up his Blackwinter beside him at the bed and stood up. A sudden…but faint sound occurred from the other room; a grunt of a guy… then a body dropping on the carpeted floor.