Howling In The Dark Novels & Stories

Elias came in, growling menacingly, his eyes turning a bright blue. Deven yelled behind me, his body growing. He tilted my head to the side, and Xander leaped toward him, morphing into his wolf in mid-air, shredding his clothes. He landed on the Hellhound, Xander's dark gray wolf knocked him backward, cracking the glass window, causing him to release me. I darted out of the way, backing against the wall. Elias jumped into the air, landing on four blond paws, growling as he bit the arm of the Hellhound.

It was the kind of Christmas Eve I had always loved; cozy, familiar, safe. "Werewolves." My cousin whispered dramatically, leaning forward so the younger kids hung on her every word. "They hunt in the night, their eyes glowing red, their claws sharp enough to tear through bone. And when they catch you..." She paused, lowering her voice to a chilling whisper. "...They drink your blood and turn you into werewolves!!" The children shrieked in unison, clutching each other, their wide eyes reflecting the firelight. My cousin burst into laughter, clearly pleased with herself.

"No Charlotte, you can do this, you can't give up, you have to help them! She exclaimed as she got up and brushed the dirt off her clothes. "No matter what I won't give up, I need to get some help." She heard the sound of a twig breaking and she immediately jerked her head to the side the sound came from. She squinted her eyes to try to look at what caused the sound, but she didn't find anything. She shrugged her shoulders as a sign she was imagining things. But suddenly,a wolf leapt right in front of her, she gasped out of shock and fear. "This wolf , isn't this the same wolf? How did it get here? But, Mom and Dad… this could only mean…

She was bloodied and badly wounded but Chloe could feel that she was still alive. The shadows didn’t hesitate. They lunged forward, moving like ghosts as they charged at the creature. The creature let out a enraged shriek that was so loud Chloe thought her eardrums might burst. But still, the wolves carried on, unaffected by the inhuman sound. Something about the shadows charging it down clearly unsettled the mysterious monster because it was off of its victim in an instant darting off into the forest without a trace. It’s time for you to go back, your majesty Another voice echoed through Chloe’s mind. You have been here too long.

he whispered, raw and low. “I’ve only ever imagined having children with one woman. And she’s standing in my arms right now.” Her breath left her in a shiver. Before she could respond— A howl ripped through the night. Loud. Violent. Too close. The music shattered. Wolves tensed. Soldiers reached for weapons. Kael’s grip locked around her. “Stay behind me.” *** The windows burst inward. Rogues — three, four, five — snarling, eyes feral, bodies twisted with infection.

to my fellow Golderine Werewolves. I'm staring at the moon now, even though I'm not at Luna's house right now, even though I can't see her right now I seem to hear her every sob and cry, her thoughts keep passing through my mind cheeks wet with tears and his eyes full of pain, anger and longing. Now I realize even more that maybe if he knew that I was also a werewolf, he would hate me too much. My hands are bent. As I opened my eyes I let a howl full of frustration and pain and then I shouted, trying to ease the problem I have inside my mind, trying to take away the hurtful feeling that my heart is carrying right now.

They hurt in a way that dark magic never did. By nightfall, something shifts in the air. A colder cold. A deeper dark. My breath fogs. Somewhere far above the dungeon, I hear wolves howling. Not the pack-song of celebration. Not the disciplined rhythm of scouts. This is a warning howl. My heart tightens. Are they coming for me? For Killian? For Lyra? I don’t know. But suddenly, I don’t want them to die. Any of them. Not even her.

The air was thick with energy as the pack howled in unison continuously. Their voices rising together in a haunting symphony that echoed through the night. Among them was young George, sharing in the experience of the full moon’s power with the rest of the pack. His wolf form stood tall amidst the others, his howl blending seamlessly with the collective chorus of the wolves, their voices rising and falling like waves in a wild, ancient melody. The howling didn’t stop—it filled the air, the sound of it vibrating through the mansion, a reminder of the raw, untamed power of the full moon. It was a night of transformation, of pain and triumph, of endings and new beginnings.

He was doing this, what he’d been brought into the world to do. Ridding. Killing. Misbred mistakes. Deviate from us. Kill the innocents. Were they, though? Innocent? No. Oh no-no. A sound came to him, interrupting his reverie: an obscure howling noise, not unlike a dog, or wolf baying far off somewhere. Except . . . He became stock-still. His eyes glittered with mild irritation. The unearthly howl rose again, floating across Blackwater Valley and filling the night. A shudder rippled through his misshapen body.

A low howl built in my throat ran out "Awooooo…” A wolf’s howl. It spilled out of me, sharp and wild, echoing off the stone walls like a call from another world. Then everything went dark. The world tilted and I blacked out in Nathaniel’s arms.