Mad Wolf Novels & Stories

Why is it him? Why is my wolf screaming 'mate' when the man that stood there alone was Tristian Parker?

I had hope that it wouldn't just happen now. But like every other year, at this point I would wish that my name wasn't my name. I would wish that I wasn't Allison Bush, the last air of the Bush who actually is the only one that turns into a full wolf on a full moon. I was trying to run from that and some other things.. But then again, you can't run away from yourself!!

Milo wags his finger at me with an annoying grin. I feel myself go pale as Dad’s wolf charges out of the woods into the clearing. I take a step back, but I can’t run. He would catch me in three strides. “Mace, this isn’t what it looks like. Bronx has it wrong. I swear. Nothing happened.” “Leni-” Marco steps forward, putting himself between me and Dad’s giant gray wolf. Mace lowers his head with a rumbling growl, making all of us bow and show him our necks in submission. My knees shake under the blanket when I hear him shifting into human form.

Nate straightened, brushing off his clothes as the sound of their moans continued to play. “What will you gain by doing this?” Mason shouted, his voice shaking with rage. “You know I’m straight! I don’t love you, I detest you. I hate gay wolves as much as I hate wolves from the Woodland pack!” he growled, his fangs slightly exposed, his wolf’s disgust strong. Nate rolled his eyes and turned off the sound. “That’s total bullshit. If you hate wolves from the Woodland pack as you have said, why are you so interested in my bestie that you had to make her your girlfriend?!” He half yelled.

They had only been intimate once, on the day they recognized each other as mates. The fierce currents of the pull had been irresistible, the attraction overwhelming, a force of nature that had swept them away. It was an incredible experience, a moment of pure, unadulterated passion, just as his father had described. Their wolves had shared a deep bond, a silent understanding that transcended words. When Maceo broke it, Sander, his wolf, had been devastated, refusing to speak to him for nearly a year, his grief a constant, silent reproach. Until he met his second chance mate, Amanda.

I stood before three hundred wolves, no podium, no prepared remarks, just truth. "My name is Mona Silvermoon. My mother was murdered when I was three days old. I survived sixteen foster homes, each one ending when my phoenix nature showed. I was beaten, starved, locked in basements. I was told I was an abomination." My voice didn't shake—these wounds had scarred over long ago. "The Pure Wolf Council says I'm dangerous. They're right. I'm dangerous to their vision of a world where children like mine can't exist."

The blast of shock injects me with a dose of adrenaline, and I jump off the bed and scream until my back hits the wall. “Sasha!” I cry out his name. An intense scream wracks from my throat again as the wolf in bed stirs. It was big, the biggest wolf I’ve ever seen in my entire life, and I’ve seen plenty. The silver white wolf, almost like a full moon in the midnight sky, opens its eyes. The familiar steel gray eyes stare at me, blinking, seemingly confused, but showing some recognition. The door opens, slamming against the wall. Sasha and the rest of the guys barge in heavily armed.

A few minutes later he was on the snowmobile, cutting across the drifts as he sped away from the complex. Faces appeared at windows throughout the buildings. Most looked thrilled, jealous, or hungry. Building 21 belonged to a group of 20-something punks who called themselves the Mad Wolves. Their self-proclaimed leader, Marco White, stood at his window with a bloody machete resting against his side, the blade already rusting. He watched Cyrus leave the complex and frowned. "Where the hell is he hiding that snowmobile?" He had been the one who ordered men to steal it last night.