Millennium Wolves Sienna Novels & Stories

Her long hair was pulled into a messy bun, strands sticking to her neck as the late afternoon sun streamed through the curtains, bathing the room in a golden glow. “Mama!” Sienna cried, bursting into the kitchen. Her dark curls bounced as she waved a drawing in her hand. “Look! I made a wolf!” Channary dried her hands on a towel and leaned down to examine her daughter’s work. The crude crayon drawing did indeed resemble a wolf, though its proportions were cartoonish. “That’s amazing, baby,” she said, ruffling Sienna’s hair. “You’ve got real talent.” Sienna beamed, but her twin, Elara, peeked around the corner with her lips pursed. “Mine’s better,” she announced, stepping forward to show her

I have never used it before, never known about what it was, but now I can't pull it away. When my fingernails form talons of a wolf, digging into the man's skin, my ears are filled with screams. Between him, his group, and Rebecca, the sounds ring haphazardly inside my head. I want to stop hurting him; hell, I knew I was killing him, but his dark eyes are blue, and his brown hair seems blond in my mind. In my eyes, he is Chris, and I can't stop my wolf from taking the revenge that she craves.

He smiled back at Leah. Meanwhile, in the cave, a pack of wolves approached Allea. She was helpless and resigned to her fate. "Did you give birth to the baby?" asked a werewolf in female form to confirm it directly to Allea. Allea did not answer and chose to look away. She didn't want to say anything about Leah to the werewolf who was now interrogating her. "Answer me! Liam won't like it if you keep your mouth shut," the wolf female threatened. "Liam will never find the baby," Allea said firmly.

Sienna tosses her empty glass away onto a silver tray and turns to face the crowd. "I guess human charity cases don't know how to handle expensive things," Sienna sneers loudly. She looks at Jaslyn with pure disgust. "Look at her—weak, pathetic, and utterly useless to our pack." The word weak echoes through the quiet ballroom. Something ancient and violent snaps inside my head. The thin thread of political restraint holding my wolf back dissolves into nothing. My vision tints with a dark, bloody red. A literal roar tears out of my chest, loud enough to shake the crystal chandeliers above us.

2. I almost had a heart attack, hearing the woman's voice so close to me. But when she materialized out of the shadows, she merely placed a finger to her lips, signaling for quiet. Getting as low to the ground as I humanly could, I watched as she jogged past me, startling when another wolf emerged from the nearby chalets. As she stood blocking my presence with her body, the she-wolf ordered a shift, and shimmering under the moonlight; the wolf did as he was told. " Shamas, what has you out and about after dark? My father has a curfew for a reason?"

"Finally. I was getting tired of the boardroom, Luna. Shall I prepare the war room?" "No," Sierra said, stepping into the car. "Prepare the children. It’s time they learned how to lead". ​While the world saw Sierra Miller as a cold, calculating billionaire, the "Shadow Pack" knew her as the Sovereign, the only wolf capable of wielding the ancient Silver Force.

One of the pack members challenged. Aiden stood up abruptly. Sierra who was seated beside them could not say a word because she was unsure of how to convince them that she isn’t a monster. “Right before Sierra left for the border, she trained day and night preparing herself to be strong. She has her inner wolf named Bia, I’ve talked to her before. She’s not a weak omega or a wolf-less girl but a strong silver wolf. You all heard of her great work at the border from General Wayne. Tyler and other omegas can testify to how she saved her colleagues on their way to the border.

I catch a phone screen mid-scroll: #TradeTheHuman is trending, with 14k posts. Then she steps forward. I don’t know her name. She’s tall and composed, with a silver necklace catching the light. All six of them wear those, I notice—the same way I wore mine into The Den. A goddamn statement. I get it now, from the other side. “Sienna Hart,” she calls out. Easy. Like she’s been rehearsing. “The human who’s killing wolves.” The murmur spreads through the crowd like wildfire. I stop walking. I shouldn’t. But I do anyway.

Around us, the air was thick with the scent of pine, musk, and the underlying tension of five hundred high-ranking wolves of the Blackwell Pack and my own Whitmore Bloodline. “Sienna is on the ledge of Ravencrest Tower, Chika,” Ronan snarled, wrenching his arm back with such force that I stumbled, my ankle snapping with a sickening pop. “She’s spiraling. Her wolf is clawing at her mind. If she jumps, her blood is on your hands for forcing this union.”

Without another word, I pulled her straight into my chest and wrapped my arms tightly around her. Sienna immediately clung to my shirt like she was terrified I would disappear too. I rested my chin gently over her head and slowly stroked through her hair, trying to calm her down little by little. “A wolf doesn’t abandon their person,” I whispered quietly. “And they definitely don’t abandon their mate.” She stayed silent against me, but I could feel how hard she was trembling. That alone made me hold her even tighter. “Sometimes wolves retreat after too much pain,” I explained softly. “Zayn did that too.” That finally made her look up slightly. Her eyes were still wet. “He did?” she asked qui