Millinium Wolves Novels & Stories

We were content to sit in silence for a while, "miniature wolf," my cuz finally asked hesitantly, "what about the other ones that were here? Are they werewolves too?" "Just regular wolves, 'cept Dad," I replied. "You sure?" "I think so. They acted like wolves. Human wolves wouldn't fight for den territory," I explained. "It would be cool, though, finding someone else like me. I can't picture someone who could be a man, wanting to live his whole life out here as a wolf, raising kids in the wild."

The man asked, looking behind him to talk to someone. "I say we cut off its little werewolf head or put our silver spear right into its tiny wolfy heart. It looks cute, but we must remember that cute little werewolves turn into big bad, ugly monsters that kill humans." Another man said from behind the first man, his tone mocking.

Wells skimmed through my expression and continued to explain the norms of this world. "Werewolves possessed enhanced senses. In the human perspective, only five senses are known, but not werewolves. Our kind is blessed by the Moon Goddess; a sixth sense to communicate with the mind and another with your wolf," I thought that was his brief explanation, not until he trailed further which I absolutely do not dislike. "—In this place, there is also a hierarchy to be followed. The Alpha, the beta, the subordinates, and the weakest, the omegas,"

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.

With a unified howl that reverberated through the wilderness, they surged forward, their wolf forms a blur of strength and agility, driven by a shared mission to unravel the Nightshade Pack’s enigmatic silence. Alpha Mikhail Silverclaw led the charge, his golden amber coat gleaming like a torch in the moonlight. His massive wolf, a towering symbol of authority, moved with the confidence of countless missions, his amber eyes scanning the darkness for threats. Behind him, the seven operatives followed in tight formation: Beta Elena Moonshadow, her silver and moonlight-yellow fur shimmering with elegance; Gamma Marcus, his midnight blue coat blending into the shadows; Lucas Stonefur, chestnut b

Silver water burst upward, drenching the slope in a spray that shimmered like broken glass. Shapes emerged from the churn—shadowed, shifting things that almost held form but didn’t. They landed in the mud, four-legged, skeletal outlines flashing white before turning flesh. Mireya hissed a curse. “Wolves.” They weren’t theirs. The moment Kaelen saw their eyes, he knew—mirror-born, reflections of the pack that once hunted here. Their pelts glowed faintly, silver under the crimson moon, and their growls were too even, like a sound rehearsed by something that didn’t understand breathing.

It like Mileena and I is nothing but a memory that faded away from his life. Through it all Mileena had not complained one time, I believe that with her father betrayal it’s still fresh in her mind. She still trying to cope with it all, also learning to adapt to life in the forest. Being a rouge is no fun in the park because they're a lot to learn. Rouge are lone wolves that are label as dangerous wolves in werewolf society. Rouges are sometimes travel in groups; they like to terrorize other packs all because they don’t want to abide by wolf law.

For me. Each pack had an order of hierarchy, at the very top sat the Gold Moon wolves: regal, untouchable, their golden-flecked eyes marking them as near-gods among us. They ruled the council, commanded the armies, held the sacred grounds. Below them came the Silver Moon wolves… Lynix, they were called. A near-extinct breed whose blood carried the silver strain, making them impervious to the metal that killed every other wolf. Legends said they could heal from wounds that should’ve been fatal, walk through silver-laced traps unscathed. But a war or perhaps a plague… had wiped them out generations ago. Or so the stories went. I scrunched my nose, trying to remember if Mother had ever mentione

"You said you came with a warning." "The Ironwood beta who scented you months ago, the one who told you that the old councils burn omegas like you. He sent word to his pack. Word travels fast in the northern territories, especially word about a white wolf." Maelis's expression didn't change, but her voice dropped. "There are packs that consider the Moon-Wolf bloodline an abomination. They've exterminated every multi-bond omega they've found for two hundred years. And they're very, very good at it." The silence in the hall was absolute. I felt Bastian's hand tighten on my chair. I felt Kellan's cold fury spike through the second bond. I felt Archer's steady presence falter for just a heartbea