How Many Chapters In Wolfenstein: The Old Blood Novels & Stories

WARNING - THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A GRAPHIC DEATH Willing my feet to move was near impossible. The agonizing screams filled the air along with the thick fog of smoke. Wolves were swarming the clashing groups of vampires. Quickly the open fields and streets of the town were crowded. It was horrid seeing that so many bodies were present people were fighting side by side with the lack of room. The pungent smell of copper being carried in the wind.

She turned in a slow, complete circle. The first set of eyes emerged from between two trees. Flat amber, reflecting nothing warm. The wolf behind them was enormous — taller at the shoulder than anything she'd encountered in Thorn territory, its coat matted with old blood and filth, its body radiating the specific chaotic wrongness of a creature that had been feral long enough to stop functioning as a mind. A second pair of eyes appeared. Then a third. She turned again, faster, and counted. Seven. Eight. She turned again. No — nine. Ten. There — in the shadow of the fallen oak — two more, low to the ground, already beginning to flank.

My Alpha twin mate harbored resentment towards me ever since, and on the day I gave birth to the heir, she personally killed my pup. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that day. …… I opened my eyes. I was back. Back to that chaotic night when Alexander and Lucas hit their rut. " I'm burning...need she-wolf" Two scorching hot Alpha bodies were pinning me down, heavy as lead. Their eyes were glowing a terrifying crimson, devoid of any pupil or recognition. "Help us... we're going to explode..." Lucas's voice was a ragged growl, his elongated canines scraping against my neck, ready to sink in and mark me.

His gaze kept flicking to Gigi with worry in every line of his expression. I barely had time to react from each attack before another wolf launched at me. I threw myself forward, dodging, twisting. My claws sliced into exposed flesh, hot blood spilling over my paws, staining the snow. My enemy yelped, but I couldn’t stop. Another attack was already incoming. There were too many of them. Tyce howled. A warrior ripped into his side. The sound that tore from his throat sent ice through my veins. His blood streaked the sky, splattering onto the snow like spilled ink. It painted the ground beneath him a dark and horrifying crimson. His body lurched. His legs buckled.

My wolf surged forward, claws and teeth tearing through fur and flesh. Chaos erupted around us. Blood sprayed as I bit down on my first victim, the metallic tang flowing down my throat, urging my wolf to dig his claws deeper – to hold on tighter. The scent of death, rot, and blood filled the air, the scent a sharp contrast to the clean forest scent. My bodyguards moved with precision, their years of training evident in every coordinated strike, and every defensive maneuver. But the rogues kept coming, their numbers greater than I’d expected...

I got snatched by rogues once. They bled me dry, tore me apart, left me barely breathing. I was moments from being dragged into the Black Forest when Bloodmoon's patrol found me. The wolf leading them was sharp, commanding—everything a hero should be. My eyes were damaged. I could only make out his silhouette. He cut down the rogues holding me. Pulled me from the silver cage. Then more rogues swarmed in. Outnumbered, he fought through them anyway, dragging me with him.

The rest of the world could have burned down, and in here, it would still smell like old paper and ink. Perfect. I’d pulled three entire stacks of books around me, a fortress of leather bindings and worn pages: histories of werewolves, dense texts on Lycans, thin, brittle pamphlets about old bloodlines, even obscure case studies of wolfless wolves and the rare, desperate stories of those who’d somehow triggered their first shift late in life. None of it helped.

Ice Fang, the biggest Lycan werewolf made of Ice, said. "Yeah, me too." Windy, the Leopard made of Wind, supported. "I'm still replaying what happened right here in my head, just can't believe a new girl beat us to our own game." Flame, the Lion made of Fire, chips in. "We spent more than a hundred years putting that hard puzzle together only for her to solve it within a few minutes, not hours. I'm heart broken." Ice Fang said. "Should we gang up and beat her because I have a hundred ways to make her cry." Windy said.

I kicked and hit at whatever it was holding me up, making small sparks fly. Something wet and hot dripped onto my face. I blinked rapidly trying to get the blood out of my eye. It stung from how dry my eyes were and it irritated the wound slightly. Another drop of something warm landed on my shoulder. Another drop dropped on my forehead, burning like fire. I shivered involuntarily as another drop of something cold and slimy dropped on top of me. It stung my skin and I flinched as another drop of something hot landed on my foot. My toes curled under the substance as I tried to pull them further apart to get away from the heat coming from the liquid. Finally, after what felt like hours, the pr

Mom, Dad she called out slowly to them moving close in their direction. By the time she found them they had already transformed into werewolves it's wasn't easy, controlling them as wolves, to make them go under the basement, she tried all she could but failed then she said to them, "I don't care how aggressive you are towards me, you know you can't hurt me because I am also a young wolf, just like you are a werewolf from one pack, I can control you, as been a young she-wolf, I will do anything to make sure you don't cause any harm to others."