Novel & Cerita Harry Potter Wolves

DAHLIA: “Tell me the truth, Albus…. You and that black wolf, you are both no ordinary wolves… You are from the Shadow Rune Pack, aren’t you?” The fur in the great white wolf’s body shook as if it was hit by an invisible arrow in the chest. He whimpered a bit in front of us, but he didn’t say anything more. Before Eva and I could repeat our question and hear the answer we longed to hear, a series of loud thumping sounds pulled us away from the Animal Spirit World and back into our human consciousness.

I didn’t understand what was going on. “She was just trying to get the gown on. He must have sensed her pain again and talked to her.” Alex explained to Luka through the door. “How did you know?” I asked. I didn’t tell her. “I am good at reading body language. I could tell one of the wolves was talking to you. You had a typical annoyed teen look on your face.” Alex giggled. One of the wolves? Did she know about the white one from my dreams? Were there other ones I didn't know about?

Watching her wolf, my mate, my heart swelled with pride. Her wolf was relentless, going on a killing spree without mercy. Its white fur was now dyed with blood, making it look like an angel of death. The creatures, once a threat, were now all completely annihilated. When we thought it was all over, her wolf turned towards us, its violent eyes staring deep into our soul. The wolf took a step forward, a low growl rumbling from its chest. Intense cold prickled against my skin, pure dread washing over me. Looking into its eyes, I knew this wasn’t Phoebe, this was a beast that derived joy from dominating.

I knew what the witch’s weakness was. There was Lucinda gave Alpha Skylar a potion that stunned the wolves. There was a reason these wolves were bound by ropes of light. There was a reason they were hanging in these cages. The witch’s weakness WAS the wolves.

Okay, one, I have never seen a transformation of a werewolf and two, I have never heard of one grinning. Within seconds of the woods becoming a bit quiet after the birds flew off squawking, a red wolf appeared before us. We all stand in awe as we gape as if Harry’s wolf is the most beautiful wolf we have ever seen. A red wolf is very rare. With his shiny new thick fur. Harry’s wolf turns towards me and lowers his head and I see one eye is covered by black fur. A patched eye... How handsome. “Alpha, you have to tell everyone!” I hear another boy shouting in my direction. Oh yeah, I forgot that. I am not used to being in command yet.

The rogue's hand closed around my hair, pulling me to my feet, and dragging me away. But then, a blur of brown fur crashed into the rogue, knocking him flat with a guttural growl that shook the trees. The rogue didn't even get a chance to scream. Blood splattered the grass as Harry’s wolf stood over him, his hackles raised, his teeth bared. I couldn’t breathe. Harry turned to me, his eyes glowing. He moved so fast I barely saw him. His large body swept around me, shielding me from everything. He nudged my side, urging me onto his back. His red eyes telling me things without words.

The extensive tour of the pack grounds proved to be surprisingly informative. Uncle Marco, with his exuberant personality, led the way, while Cree offered quiet, insightful elaborations. The training grounds were particularly impressive, with warriors organized into specialized groups. The "Donated" wolves, those with magical aptitudes, were divided into four subcategories: ignis (fire), glacies (ice), terra (earth), and caeli (air). Those less magically inclined formed the Bellator combat group, leveraging their speed and strength. The presence of hybrid trainers for the magically gifted wolves was a unique and impactful addition.

I say, like it's the most simple thing ever. At this point, it kind of seems so. Oliver nods his head, and I'm happy to know that he'll always stand by me, even with my outrageous plans. I'm about to say something when the sound of heavy footsteps tears through the air. Members of the pack swamp the courtyard. Some in their wolf form, some still bloodied from battle, and some that look frightened of their shadows But they all have one look in their eyes as they see Harry. His fur on the ground, him looking flat out cold, the blood pooling in the ground

I focus a bit more and notice that one of the wolves is Sylas; he has to be fighting Laslo. Sylas is a huge gray wolf, bigger than Laslo’s white wolf. Laslo’s wolf is swiping at Sylas, and his claws connect here and there. Sylas twists his body and kicks Laslo’s wolf, sending it flying into a tree. Laslo’s wolf lays at the base of the tree, sprawled out. Sylas marches to the tree base and hovers over Laslo’s wolf, snarling and biting. His jaw reaches over and grabs at the white wolf’s neck.

So he grins wider, once again baring his set of bloodstained teeth, his fangs rough and crooked, a testament of his long history—and also long list of victims. “How disappointing to see you fighting for the wrong side,” he coldly says. “Fenrir Fauntleroy, mad dog of the House of the Wolves, are you making up for the shortcomings of your younger brother?” Fenrir lets out a derisory snarl. He ought to shift so he can talk back and put the cocky mage in his place, but he did not have the luxury to put his guard down. Soren notices it and smirks. “Apologies, I forgot wolves are only capable of barking. . .but you’re barking at the wrong tree. Get it?”