Mystic Wolves Novels & Stories

The year following the tablets was the year everything that had been building finally found its form. The hybrid wolf identification work expanded across all five territories. Finn's Silvermoon network became the primary coordination point for finding and contacting the thirty-one wolves Obsidian had documented and the additional thirty-two that subsequent searching had identified. Sixty-three wolves across the western territories who had been living with a configuration they had no language for, classified as inconsistent or unstable or problematic by the packs that did not understand what they were carrying.

“Where’d you learn that?” “High school,” Jake said, slamming it into gear. “Long story.” Tyres shrieked on torn asphalt. The W.R.X. launched. Wolves pounded after them, then one by one peeled off, howls echoing under concrete. At the head of the pack, a scarred she-wolf—taller, broader—snarled, snapping at a male that edged too close. They didn’t follow. They watched. They always watched. Jake tore a glance in the mirror. Nothing but yellow eyes and patient rage.

I had a driver's license, he drove someone's car, he said - we need to take the woman and the girl to another city. Well, you have to, you have to. The car, Moskvich, was filled to capacity with their things, and I drove them, then I returned back, but three days later we returned to the flock. A little more than a year has passed, Aidar again approached me: Can you help? Well, why not help? Here we already drove by car two days before another town, and again I figured out which of the werewolves in the area was seen. He went into the house, said that he would come down in a couple of minutes, and a little wolf cub ran up to the same entrance, smiled at me sunnyly and went there too.

The older-looking wolf with faded pink scars across his chest and back boomed, and the three mage werewolves turned in sync before I allowed myself a small exhale. “One more thing,” The bull-looking wolf that had not turned with the others bellowed and I snapped my eyes back to his yellowed orbs, anxiety making the knots in my belly a hard lump.

But this howl was directed at me and didn't affect the other members of the pack present. My Rogue wolf almost yielded... Until yet another of my wolves began taking over. This one was a bit more mysterious but less rebellious than Rogue. I called her... Mystik, because of the unexplainable power I'd always felt from her since I was little. When she took over, she revealed her silver fur and stood as tall as Nightshade but still not as tall as my Alpha wolf. However, instead of fighting back against the guards gathering around us, her body got covered in a silver light.

There was a profile of a stag in mid-air on one side of the medallion. ‘I have seen this on one of the guys back in Moonstone. It must belong to a member of our pack.’ ‘Then it must have fallen from Damien. He is from Moonstone.’ Miranda was looking at me as she spoke. ‘Was it that it fell off as he struggled with the abductors?’ ‘If he isn’t one of them, why did he come here?’ ‘He can’t be under a spell, can he?’ I responded ‘A spell strong enough to command a wolf is rare. I know a few witches who can wield but they are all dead.’

“I know of them. They’re a smaller pack, deeply secluded, but they’re not ordinary. They have a history of taking in magical wolves, those gifted with abilities, and grooming them to master their powers. Their stories have always been shrouded in mystery. For a long time, I thought they were nothing more than a myth.” “Apparently, they’re very real,” I replied. “An unknown number called me yesterday. They claimed to have heard I was searching for my mate. Before coming to you, I had the council investigate their claim. They confirmed the same—Lunaris Mystique is indeed a pack of supernatural wolves.” The Alpha tapped his fingers against the desk, a deep furrow forming on his brow. “If this i

~. .~ Paws Creek was a lively hub of activity, and the visiting she-wolves from various packs stood out with their distinct colors. Each pack had its unique attire, making it easy to distinguish them. The she-wolves wearing pristine white garments were clearly from the Glacier Pack, their attire reflecting the icy lands they hailed from. Their presence exuded an air of cold elegance. On the other hand, the she-wolves donned in vibrant yellow attire hailed from the Sun Pack. Their outfits radiated warmth and vitality, mirroring the sunny region they represented.

The extensive tour of the pack grounds proved to be surprisingly informative. Uncle Marco, with his exuberant personality, led the way, while Cree offered quiet, insightful elaborations. The training grounds were particularly impressive, with warriors organized into specialized groups. The "Donated" wolves, those with magical aptitudes, were divided into four subcategories: ignis (fire), glacies (ice), terra (earth), and caeli (air). Those less magically inclined formed the Bellator combat group, leveraging their speed and strength. The presence of hybrid trainers for the magically gifted wolves was a unique and impactful addition.

I felt insulted and unsafe there. “I’m not sure. I have to check the register. Three years ago, a pack of twenty-five silver wolves lived in the Waterton Lake Area in Alberta, Canada. Maybe they have shifted to Glacier National Park in Montana. I’m not sure. They were the second pack, along with yours on this continent. The only large pack of silver wolves live in Ziliana, Mount Olympus, Greece. I believe your ancestors have separated from them to form their packs.”