Native American Novels & Stories

Mark sat on the side of the bed and introduced himself, “Hi mate. My name is Alpha Mark Robins of the Moon Touched pack.” Tilting her head to the side, Talon giggled, “Look Amara, my mate talks. Does yours?” Amara laughed at her sister’s words before answering, “I don’t know. He just sits there staring at me with those purple eyes like I have two heads.” “Maybe you should introduce yourself and shake his hand,” Talon suggested. Sticking her right hand out, Amara quietly said, “I am Amara Nisga’a of the White Wolf clan. I am from Alaska.”

It was an ancient Arapaho tradition, passed down through Jeremy's great-grandfather, who had fostered a deep respect for the Arapaho people and their unique approach to breaking in horses without breaking their spirits. With each nudge of the reins and every shift of their weight, Alexandra felt a profound connection with the horse beneath her. The rhythm of their movements echoed the heartbeat of the land, and she understood the significance of this bond between human and animal. It was a testament to the enduring relationship between Jeremy's family and the Arapaho, a relationship built on mutual respect and understanding.

"This whole section needs replacing. We can work down the line." "Okay." Nate followed the foreman's cues. They used a sledgehammer on the boards that were rotten or loose, then Nate held the new section while Nakos nailed them in place. They got a few done before Nate spoke again. "Where's the reservation?" "Between here and the Thunder Basin National Grasslands." Nakos pointed due north. "Arapaho tribe." Nate had never heard of it. He and Justin had served with a guy who was part Cherokee, but that was the extent of Nate's knowledge on Native Americans. "What's that phrase you say to Olivia every morning?"

Before they finally settled down here in Chicago. They are from an endless line of dark-skinned Native Americans. The Creek Tribe! My mom’s family are all mixed up. They are part of the light-skinned Choctaw Tribe, also Irish and African. Seeing us walk in. They all looked up, stunned. I see them sniff the air deeply. They gasp, their eyes go wide with shock. They gaze bewildered at each other. My heart is beating so fast right now. I know I have to tell them about us now. But a part of me sort of feels like they have a clue as to why we are here. By how they’re looking at us right now. I greet them shyly, smiling nervously. I wave. “Hey, y’all..”

I come to Ethan’s house every day to take care of him and go back in the evening to his mom’s place. “Adina, I have meant to ask you, what are your plans once I get better. Are you still moving back to Nigeria” Ethan asks the one question I have not been able to answer myself. The reason I was moving back to Nigeria was that I saw no future with Ethan. I could not stay in America, hoping things would get better between us, but now they did. Even though they have, Ethan and I don’t really have a future together. He is still a non-Muslim, which is a significant factor that prevents us from not having a future together.

"You stole three Americans!" yelled his tribe's alpha. "We acquired them and left an appropriate bride price," Acat countered. "You were supposed to raid a village with those dowries, not a campsite," his leader, who doubled as his father, ranted as he paced the clearing set amidst the towering trees, which, according to legend, housed the spirits of his ancestors. "We have rules about not going near foreigners. Do you have any idea of the chaos this is causing? The attention you've brought on us?"

"Pardon me, Alpha Seth! Would you just give us a moment? When a voice greeted them from behind, Seth and Edith's steps came to a stop. Seth turned and saw a guy and a woman with eagle feathers on their hair, dressed in Native American attire. Both smiled warmly, and Seth returned the favour by smiling as well. "We are Alpha and Luna of The Moon Warrior pack. I am Alpha Chocise and she is Luna Simi. We helped your mother give birth when you were born on our tribe's reservation."

My fingertips gently caressed the cover as my eyes never left it. "My family has had this heirloom in the family for generations. Fathers would pass it down to their sons, but all of their children knew about it. It was the son's responsibility to carry it forward, since they would be the ones to carry the name. It was told that we were entrusted with something very important. A secret... a weapon... and one day the person that gave us this responsibility would return. Talako was the name of one of my ancestors on my father side. He was a Choctaw, but ended up leaving due to his parents being killed. His mother gave him to a friend. Some natives were wolves, but not all of them. The wolves p

As I have yet to really believe that it is me, they are really looking for. “Your mom was a native of North America though her tribe was located around the Canadian border. It followed the Columbia River when they moved inward during the winter months, into what is now the Hawkeye territory. There were many tribes in the area, but they all adhered to your mother.” My dad explained as he grabbed my hand and looked into my eyes. “Why did they do that?” I asked him.

My father was one hundred percent Native American from the Haida tribe, and so is my dad’s brother Bodaway. I remember my friend's friends laughing at some stupid jokes that Elijah had been saying throughout the year. He was the class punk and the class clown. I remember just laying by myself in the cold sand of the early morning, and I remember my friend Canowicakte, who I called Hunter as a nickname, fell next to me, resting his head on one of his hands. “This summer is going to be epic. I can just feel it.” He said, his voice soft and raspy.