Historical Fiction/fantasy With Werewolves Novels & Stories

Maybe I wouldn’t get to eat waffles all the time, but I’d live. A glint of gold caught my eye. I turned and went towards the book. As I grew closer, I realized that this whole section was made of older books. The one with the gold on the binding looked a little newer, but not by much. I pulled the book off the shelf and frowned. “A History of Werewolves.” I carried it to my room. It was a really thick book, so I knew that it was going to take me a few days to get through it. I’d probably get through it the day they got back.

The shelves stretched to the ceiling, filled with books that looked like they hadn’t been touched in years. I walked slowly between the rows, running my fingers along the shelves until I found the section on werewolf history. I grabbed a few thick books that looked promising and carried them to a quiet corner table near the window. The light was soft there, golden and peaceful. I let out a breath and opened the first book, skimming through chapters on bloodlines, first shifts, pack traditions… stuff I probably should have known already. I’d only read a few pages when someone pulled out the chair across from me.

It looked oddly familiar. Her chest tightened slightly. No, she told herself. It’s just a clearing. There are thousands of clearings in forests all over the world. Still, she kept flipping. Mentions of “Lunar Ceremonies,” “Shifting Rituals,” and “Moon-Bound Hierarchies.” One word appeared over and over, Werewolves. The word was used openly, unashamedly, like a factual label instead of a fantasy creature. The text didn’t read like a story, it read like an account. A historical record, a textbook almost, like what you would see in a school.

I admired some of the old classics and new books as my eyes wandered over every title. I had gathered a stack of books in my hand, picking ones I wanted to read and taking them out. So far, I had five books that I found would pique my interest such as Alice in Wonderland, Pride and Prejudice and the Maze Runner. All of these books were human and I admired the wide selection of books that this room had. I tried to find one that was all about werewolves like the library back at my pack had and only seemed to find one that was labelled 'As Old As Time Will Tell' written by none other than one of the eldest werewolf alive which was 'Herbert Vanderlin'. In the blurb, it states his life as an old

I asked, my curiosity hitting the top. Dad's lips curved up as he sipped his tea, " That's right. Historia Lycanthropos & Fenrisufr- one of the ancient books that held the right history of Lycanthropes, their descendants, werewolf, Fenrir and the Moon goddess!" As Dad explained, I flipped the page, feeling the cool touch of the leather. " I can't understand this language! " I furrowed my brows, attempting to understand what language it was.

Low, mournful, and chillingly close. Her heart raced as she sat up in bed, with the moonlight throwing ghostly shadows through the open window. Distance had always been her friend when it came to loving wolves. Still, there was something about this that felt so wrong. Like the howls weren’t just from animals. Like they were calling to something. She shook off the thought and barefooted toward the window. The back alley of the bookstore stretched into the thick forest beyond, its trees swayed like shadowy sentinels. Just as she was about to look away, two glowing amber eyes stared back at her from the trees.

"Yes I am a bit freaked out, but I'm not afraid of you. I don't think you can hurt me even if you wanted to. Plus, your eyes are golden, so you haven't killed any humans as yet." "You know about werewolves?" He demanded. "Well not necessarily. I only know what I've read about them." "You mean like in myths and legends?" "No, like I'm reading a book right now where this Alpha and his mate are descendants from Gods. It's called The Alpha's Destiny, and it's so —" "Oh, so fairytales," he scoffed. "Look here, little human, this isn't fiction, this is real life and if we don't fix this soon, there will be a lot of bloodshed."

The Sivercrest pack helped by members of the Whitefang pack was gaining ground on them killing more and more of their warriors. The war had already gone on for over twenty-four hours and they were all exhausted from the fighting. More wolves soon launch at them and they each take on as much as they can. These wolves looked different and savage with big red eyes and smelled horrible... one of the wolves moves forward growling menacingly at him, he launches for his already bleeding shoulder and tries to bite out a chunk from it which he dodges him and the wolf tumbles to the ground with a big fall, he looked very upset now as he was snarling ferociously at him and with a totally unnoticeable m

Emily's heart quickened as she realized she was in the presence of a revered elder, a keeper of ancient knowledge. The elder's voice was a melodic whisper that seemed to echo through the depths of Emily's soul. They spoke of the prophecies that foretold the coming of a chosen one, a bridge between worlds that possessed the power to reshape the destiny of both humans and werewolves. With bated breath, Emily listened intently as the elder unraveled the tapestry of history, recounting legends of ancient battles, forbidden romances, and the delicate balance between light and darkness. It was a tale of love and sacrifice, of the choices that defined the fate of their kind.