Millenium Wolves Novels & Stories

She growls as we move past the angry looking wolves, and I blush in return everytime. Millie and I have never had a friendly relationship. She has merely tolerated my presence. To see and hear her defending me is definitely new. Maybe giving her my meal meant more to her than it did to me. "Walk with your head up, Alpha Female. They are below you," Millie suddenly whispers, and my eyes widen. I staighten my spine and redirect my eyes to looking forward. I tilt my chin up. Wolves Amber. Wolves.

The fight ended in no time. It was a massacre. I now understood why spirit wolves were equated to gods. Helena had single-handedly killed twenty-five evil-looking mutant wolves. I didn't have that kind of capacity. Those wolves had ravaged settlements for almost a year without suffering any casualties, but they had reached the end of their journey.

The wounds of the past began to fade, replaced by a collective determination to live life on their terms. Three years later, the golden light of the morning sun bathed Nampa in a warm glow. The werewolves, living in harmony with nature, carried out their daily routines. In the heart of the pack's territory, Luna and Alpha Burst observed the vibrant life unfolding before them. Mira, now five years old, displayed an extraordinary talent for combat. Her training with the wolves, initiated at a young age, had blossomed into a remarkable proficiency. The pack members marvelled at Mira's innate strength and strategic prowess, a testament to the resilient spirit that ran in her blood.

These joint endeavors demonstrated their shared commitment to the well-being of their home, further cementing the bonds between them. The establishment of a shared education system was another major step. Young wolves from both packs trained together, learning from each other’s unique strengths and skills. The Duskwood wolves, known for their prowess in combat, shared their knowledge of fighting techniques and survival strategies. The Silvermoon wolves, renowned for their knowledge of herbs and healing, taught their younger counterparts the art of medicine and first aid. This cross-training fostered mutual respect and understanding, creating a generation of wolves who saw themselves not as m

“What are we going to do with the new pack?” I ask, still curled up on Caden’s chest, my voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. The warmth of him keeps my body relaxed, but my mind’s already spinning with logistics. Merging packs is no joke—especially when we’re talking about three thousand wolves. That brings our total to thirteen thousand. Thirteen. Thousand.

It was the raw, wet sound of bone breaking, the copper tang of hot blood splashing onto cold, ancient stone, and the terrifying, multi-ton roar of wolves who had never known the tempering of civilization. ​Killian was a whirlwind of black fur and predatory rage. He didn't bother with the half-man shift we used in the subways; he went full beast. He was a shadow-wolf of the future, a creature evolved for tactical assassination, fighting the raw, silver-wolves of the past. He was faster and more precise, but they were a tide. They fought with a suicidal devotion, throwing their bodies at his claws just to get a single hand—or a single tooth—on his throat.

They knelt down and pushed my sweat laced raven hair away from my face, their eyes open and kind. “Hello.” The one with brown eyes and rainbow hair said sweetly, his tone low and soft. “Hello.” I responded nervously, watching him for any sign of aggression. “Why are you laid on the ground?” The second wolf asked me, his blue eyes curious and yet humorous. I sighed, knowing that I should think before I speak, not all tribes were friendly to strangers. “I tripped and I am unable to get back up, I was in the glass tubes for days without food or water.”

Tell who you are. The footsteps were slow and deliberate. Then they stopped. There was no sound until I turned. ‘Who are you?’ I echoed again. ‘We have net before.’ She paused and looked at me. I stared back and didn’t say a word. My wolf growled within me, waiting for a go-ahead from me to strike. ‘I am Miranda, the last of the witches of the royal coven.’ ‘Are they not supposed to be extinct?’ ‘We are. But a witch caused me to sleep for a hundred years and I had only recently awoken.’

It seems odd to me, but he says he loved this Rainwater wolf very much and had a good relationship with her pack until he got her pregnant. A vampire and a werewolf were having a child. The pack should have seen it for what it was, a damn miracle baby. Actually, miracle babies, to be precise. If they had helped raise the babies, then we would not be here in this predicament today. The thing about wolves, they are afraid of what they do not understand. They stick to their traditions. Those twins were not traditional.

Killian says, with an abundance of confidence. For the rest of the morning and a good part of the afternoon, we hatch a plan. One that puts us in a win-win situation. And one that allows me to rip apart the Beta of Crimson Moon. We were playing a dangerous game, playing both sides of the field. It wasn’t all about the green. Mostly it was, but it was also about fucking over the big packs and finding out what the hell was going on and why the same wolf from the Embers pack was now serving as Beta for an equally despicable pack.