Life Howling Novels & Stories

My mother used to prattle on about how a royal should act when speaking to her people, but I’m tired, my magic is drained, and all I want is to find a dark place to cuddle up with my mates. “What you should be focused on is the Stonehollow pack. They aren’t going to take the loss of their best experiments laying down. We’ve already taken out the hunters following us, but they’ll regroup.” Eyes dart around the room, analyzing the tense bodies of my mates. Kai sighs, running a hand through his hair, and it takes everything in me not to take us out of here. “This isn’t some rag-tag group, their organized, and never do anything unprepared. They’ll send more, and when they do you’ll wish you spen

“We fight.” Kelvin stared at me, shocked. My eyes were glowing silver. “We can’t outrun this forever,” I said. “If I’m the Ghost Wolf, then let me be one.” We stepped into the tunnel as the ground began to shake. Shadows poured in from both sides—cloaked figures, each holding long silver daggers glowing with cursed energy. Flame Hunters. One of them raised a horn to his lips and blew. The sound wasn’t loud, but it cracked the air like lightning.

“What? What are they doing here?” The Arctic Howlers—a feared, secretive pack. Legends say they possess an impure werewolf bloodline, living in isolation deep in the southern mountains of Alacia. Deep in the mountains, far beyond the valley and way across the rivers, their territory in South Alacia is a forbidden area for other werewolves. For decades, no one has seen them beyond their own borders. Their existence is a whispered tale, a forbidden subject within the White Fur Pack. Only the elders of the pack know about their existence and it brings fear to their faces.

“Okay, no. Timeout. I’m not moving until someone tells me what the hell is going on. One second I’m eating chips and talking with my sister and my friend on video, the next I’m in this… furry fever dream!” They both turned to stare at me like I’d been hit over the head and had started speaking dolphin. Rowan stepped closer, voice low. “That howl means another pack is on our land.” Kieran’s jaw tightened. “They’re hunting.” “Hunting what?” My voice cracked. Both pairs of eyes landed on me. “Oh, hell no.” My pulse kicked up. “Nope, not me. I’m not edible in the least, I only ever eat chips and drink coffee. No nutritional quality in that."

Morgana's hounds were flesh warped by darkness and muscle bound up in sorcery as they rushed forward but their trajectory was purposeful and straight for us. "Holding the line!" I shouted, adjusting in mid-air. Fur exploded across my skin, bones breaking, reshaping. My paws hit the earth with claws gouging deep into soil with the taste of blood filled my mouth before I’d even registered my first kill and the hound squealed, shadows leaking from its body as my jaws crushed its throat. At my side, Lucian was a whirlwind of darkness, his wolf form shrouded in writhing shadow, tearing beasts apart with elegance that made them howl like they were being unraveled.

Xavier growled back I can not deal with him now, I need to know what he meant by that "What are you talking about they said she is in distress and she needs me!" "She needs us! Not you jackass and Coco need me I can feel it!" He said I know Life needs me, but wait, Who is Coco? "Who is Coco?" "Coco is Life's wolf," Xavier said smugly What! Life doesn't have a wolf! "Life is a human, a human with extraordinary powers, but she does not have a wolf or I would have known it"

they said with a little fear of their voice but again the clown head laughed. "Of all the werewolves here in howling Island he is the only one different, don't make the mistake of trying angry the werewolf who possessed those spiral crimson eyes because otherwise, even your soul will not survive" all of them stunned of what the clown head said. Maybe they know of what she pointing but still don't want to believe. I wonder who he really is? Why he's the only one who possessed those spiral crimson on his golden eyes? Why he is the most different?

Steam whispers from the water’s surface as crimson flakes spiral in. Old Wolf (sniffing, cautious): “…This scent…” He sniffs the red-glowing pool again, ears flattening. A low whine escapes his throat. Old Wolf (soft growl): “She lives. The fire’s child… she bleeds.” He drinks—and convulses. His eyes roll back. His muscles lock. A howl claws up from his throat—strange, haunting. A memory from ages buried. Old Wolf (hoarse whisper, almost human):

Xavier*** The howl still echoed through the trees, not just a sound but a memory clawing its way through time. It wasn’t the cry of a beast—it was grief made sound, ancient and unforgiving. It reverberated through the trunks, rattling leaves like whispered names of the dead. It was deeper, older, as if the very bones of the earth were mourning something long lost and half-remembered.

she said. “No. It was a summons.” Lilly emerged behind us, Logan sleepily tugging on her shirt. He blinked up at me, then pointed toward the tree line. “They’re here,” he said softly. “The Bloodhowlers.” My breath caught. That name hadn’t been spoken in generations. They were myth, lore told in whispers—an ancient sect of primal wolves, ones who had never aligned with the council, who lived beyond law, beyond order. They answered to fire alone.