Monster Wolves Novels & Stories

No, she will fight, and if she must, she will forge alliances in the shadows where the violet moon dare not reach. Her path is clear, though perilous. The only one who could possibly stand against the might of Alpha Wilson and the Redbone Pack is the one who lurks in the heart of the Amazonian Rainforest, a place where even the bravest wolves fear to tread. Alpha Cortis Reynold, the Black Mamba of Javari Valley, a name whispered with reverence and dread alike. It is said that his teeth are venomous and his heart is colder than the darkest night. The stories tell of his dominance, his hunger for power that rivals that of any wolf in North America. If there’s one soul in the world who would re

But he still looks meek against Fenrir. Fenrir was twice his size. A giant wolf, perhaps passing for a Lycan, the largest but long-extinct werewolf race. Fenrir’s wolf was skinnier but was evidently muscled and agile. He was a midnight black wolf, who had rich fur, and his dark eyes were more slanted, like that of a fox’s—unlike Flavian’s round, doe-like eyes. They were the perfect polar opposites. Their stark contrast, as much as I hate to admit it, is a fascinating thing to witness.

Drake looked at everyone and nodded, and the sound of bones cracking and rearranging sounded in the night, and all the wolves howled at the moon. The vast majority of wolves were gray or brown, or a mix of brown and gray, with the characteristic yellow eyes of their species. Yes, the wolf's eyes usually wore yellow. The only one with red eyes, the eyes of a true Alpha, was Fury, and that had always provoked reverence from everyone present. Hell was also admired, with his beautiful green eyes, which stood out from the black and glossy fur. Even Delilah's wolf, despite being almost entirely brown, had magnificent light brown eyes, almost hazel, and her mate, despite having a very small wolf, h

Chapter 36 The Werewolf Realm White Moon Pack "Alpha Draven, something very strange has occurred in the Red Moon Pack," A warrior reported, urgency etched into every word. "Creatures—monsters from an unknown source—attacked their northern border. Many warriors were slaughtered. They only managed to save the pack members because the creatures didn't enter the residential area. According to survivors… these things were fast, ruthless, emotionless… deadly. The situation is critical." Alpha Draven's face darkened. The weight of his role pressed on his shoulders like an iron chain. "This is indeed serious. Send word immediately. Strengthen the guards on every wall. Our warriors must protect—"

They would not rest until they had brought the Supreme God Destroyer to justice and ensured the safety of the world. Amidst the moonlit expanse of a desolate forest, seven imposing figures, their hulking forms cloaked in the shadows, stood triumphant, their laughter echoing through the silent trees. These were the Seven Werewolf Supreme God Destroyers, an elite group of rouges known for their unmatched power and cunning.

She’d lost sight of her friends shortly after the start of the massacre but didn’t have the luxury of pausing to search for them. She sprinted for a gray wolf that was struggling against two winged beasts. One with a serpent’s head struck the wolf’s flank, eliciting a high pitched yelp from the canine. Amerie shot arrows of flame at the beast, nailing it in all four eyes and effectively blinding it. The other beast with a head similar to a frog growled at Amerie and turned toward her. The wolf took lunged for the beast’s neck but missed as the beast spun, knocking the wolf on its side.

Noticed my size. Mother swore up and down that we didn't come from an Alpha line. That we were common folk who had moved from Ireland because our father became depressed about the climate. Mine and Isaac's wolves said a whole other story. We were massive, even for the larger ones of the pack. Our sizes rivaled any Alpha's

“So, what do we need to know about Domlur?” Quinn asked while we are eating our breakfast at Rendall’s house. Last night, we decided to plan everything so that we can pull off this mission. It was supposed to be my mission but they used the word “our” and I can’t help but be thankful that I have them. “Well, Domlur is where werewolves live.” Quinn and I scowled at what Rendall said. That is common knowledge for god’s sake.

Southwards is the lake where I can make out the faint outlines of the Waterwolves homes. The Ironwolves and Firewolves have made their homes on the other side of the trainng ground, out of sight. I wonder if their homes look any better than these. It cannot be possible that these sagging homes are part of the proud Wildlands that I remember. Wet, rotten logs have been used to make the fires that fuel the smoke rising from the chimneys. There is no laughter, there are no no convivial drifts of voices that mark these clusters as homes. It is as if everything and everyone is dead. Nightime should be vibrant and active for werewolves. It's our time. And with the moon so close to full! Where is e

But alas, Mom needs my help today and I promised I’d pick her up some hot coffee on my way over to help warm her up since we’re in the middle of Autumn and in Denali, it’ll only get colder from here. Luckily, Denali wolves are built for this kind of persistent wintry climate being that we’ve been living on these snowy-capped Mountains for centuries now that we've grown almost resistant to the cold. It also helps that we're especially known for having white, fluffy fur coats in our wolf form that protect us from the worst of the winds, compared to our other shifter neighbors. I follow reluctantly behind Becca as we enter the Beanery, my mood dwindling with each step we get closer to the worst