Gregor The Overlander Novels & Stories

The sickness coils around me like a living entity, whispering in my mind. You have eight hours left, Sera. Heratte’s voice slithers through my consciousness. I swallow the bile rising in my throat and answer with a single word. Fine. I force my legs forward, stumbling through the dense forest. I don’t know where I’m going—there is no destination. Only away. Far enough that Logan won’t be in danger when I lose control. Time blurs. The sun is already sinking when I finally stop, drawn by the sound of rushing water. But it’s not a stream—it’s a cliff, overlooking a waterfall that glows under the dying light. The sky burns with hues of crimson and gold. The sight is breathtaking.

It might not be necessary to shift, and it will be much easier to fight if I’m not wearing a dress. As soon as I’m dressed, I step outside and immediately hear a snarl. I turn to the left and there is a brown rogue wolf stalking towards me. You can always identify the rogues because they look mangey and deranged, like a dog who’s been abused and beaten. His fur is filthy, with a few patches missing, and he smells like vulture vomit. The combination of death and decay mixed with the burning, acidic scent of vomit is the worst possible combination.

"But the containment borders are tightening. If it crosses over to our sectors..." Their voices faded as a group of loud Betas pushed past them, laughing about their training schedules. I frowned, a strange, sudden chill settling over my chest. A wildly spreading human disease? It sounded terrifying, but up here on our isolated mountain, surrounded by ancient wolf elites, the human world felt millions of miles away. I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. I had far more immediate, dangerous threats to worry about today.

"That's impossible." "Is it?" He gestured to a massive wolf—built like a tank, scars covering his arms. "This is Gregor. He's been an Alpha for twenty years. He's never submitted to anyone. But he's going to bow to you. Today." Gregor stepped forward, his eyes cold. "This is a waste of time." "Prove it," Thorne said. I took a breath. My throat tightened. The fear was there—the old fear, the one that had kept me silent for three years.

Gregor interrupted, his voice dropping to a deadly, sensual whisper. I froze. Gregor stepped completely into my personal space. He reached out, his cool, long fingers gently brushing away a tear from my cheek. The touch was shockingly gentle, yet it sent a terrifying spike of heat straight to my stomach. “My father is a monster, yes,” Gregor continued, his fingers tracing the line of my jaw. “But I know his wolf. After f*cking his victim, he simply killed them, but you’re here… alive walking around while he’s sleeping calmly….”

“I’m glad you understand this Oliver. His too close presence vanished just as quick as it had become close. He was at a corner now, his jaw hardened and his gaze at a plain wall. “You both will grow into love, just as your mother and I did. Our both packs will merge, strengthening our armies, multiplying our resources, leaving us more than prepared against rogue attacks.” He stopped to take a breath and added, “There has been reports on something strange. Most said it's the rogues growing more powerful and had somehow placed their hands on some…magic.”

Thirty. Kaden tried to think. The grey wolf had become solid on grey ground. Maybe the stone bear had a similar weakness. Something that made it vulnerable. But stone was already solid. Already physical. There was nothing to change. “The moss!” Mother Elara shouted from somewhere. “The moss growing on it! That’s what’s keeping it together!” “What?” “It’s not held by stone! It’s held by living things growing between the stones! Kill the moss and it falls apart!” “How do we kill moss?” Gregor asked.

Stormclaw was falling apart, and if I didn’t act soon, we wouldn’t survive. But first, I had to figure out how to regain control, how to root out the poison that had taken hold in my pack. Because if Gregor had turned, how many others were ready to follow?

“They’ll come for you, Lily. You can’t outrun them forever,” I peered out of the window, studying the Rogues chasing after me. A chill ran down my spine as it dawned on me the real identity of these rogue wolves. They weren’t random rogues out for an easy meal – they had small cuts on the left side of their ears… they were known as “The Crawler”.