Native American Werewolf Novels & Stories

Albert’s research was passed on to others to study, so they could continue to try to figure out what part of the change in DNA caused the healing and repair of bones, muscles, and tissues. The two original hiking couples procreated and lo and behold, a new species was born. Of course throughout time, werewolves moved, mated, and multiplied. Theories have risen throughout the wereanimal communities that the first shifters may have been Native American because that community embraces their connection to nature and are willing to nurture other sides of themselves. The rumors are also connected to the fact that every ‘seer’ known in the history of werewolves, was of Native American descent; lik

Other than fear and submission. "I can't feel your wolf. When last did you shift?" William asked his tone ever so cold. "I'm n-not a werewolf, I'm a human like my mother." Ethan try not to stutter as he spoke to the cold alpha before him not daring to look up. "Human?" William repeated monotonously. "He is half blood and can't shift." Robin said. "I think his wolf is just retarded." Dian said as she walked in. "Nathan had his wolf at eleven." William said, "he is suppose to shift at 14."

White Wolf's. "Yes. Apparently, the White Wolf's Clan also adapted the society. But then the third sex Wolf were being bullied by the other members. The White Wolf's Clan isn't really that warm in adapting this kind of change." Alexander gritted his teeth in annoyance of Jason explanation. He felt sorry for the "gay" boy of being abused because of his own sexuality. Everyone should be proud of their sexuality and shouldn't be bullied with it. "Anyway, the White Wolf's soldiers assigned for the operation later are Team, Simon, Seth, his girlfriend Rose Brandon and her brother, Ash Brandon."

As I enter my classroom, I take my seat, and soon, the teacher announces today’s assignment. “Morning, class. Today, we will remember when wolves and fangs were our biggest enemy.” Mr. Granbury announces. Back to the conversation earlier, the urban legends of Blackfoot go far back. The Shoshone tribe had many run-ins with them, as my people called them night stalkers, because they only rummaged through the fields late at night. They turn into humans only during full moons, which is the other way around in all the movies. Some say a witch put a curse on them, keeping them in wolf form and only human for the short days of the full moon.

Also, his good looks went more towards the rugged instead of suave. A smile spread across her face as she felt at home. Who could ask for a better family, she thought as she hugged him. Her adoptive family tried their best to make her feel like one of them, but she stuck out like a sore thumb. First, Lily was half Native American, though she didn't know which tribe. The Roberts were all blonde with blue eyes. Second and most obvious, the Roberts were actual werewolves. Andrew was their leader or the alpha as they called it.

“The Arctic Wolf Pack was the largest in the world, but when other werewolves found out that they were special they began killing them trying to steal their powers." I gasped. Powers! What the hell was this vampire raving about? “Pi, don't scare the girl with your stupid urban legends,” Nicky warned. “No. I'm not scared, just curious.” I told them. “Tell me what you know about the Arctic Wolf Pack.” “Well, I know around 21 years ago they were all killed by a werewolf known only as Razor Tail. It's believed that this wolf worships Hades, the god of the underworld, instead of the moon goddess, Selene.”

I wiped the corner of my mouth with a napkin, swallowing before replying, "Moonstone pack. It's in the far end of New Zealand, known for their raw brutality and rural nature. Native to what others called savage werewolves." "Oh." All attention drew to Nia, watching as she slowly took a sip from a cup. She was probably enjoying the few seconds of fame. "I've read about them. Savage beasts, rural and untamed, ignorant and all the sorts. They don't even utilize modern technologies. How retarded!" The table became quiet. My fingers curled to a fist around my cutlery as I glared at her. How dare her use such derogatory words in describing my pack? Every pack had set rules that governed them, each

Half of White Claw pack was of African decent and had moved here many years ago when their people had been hunted relentlessly and to near extinction by the Aje’ and their powerful juju. ‘I give you the choice Channon, of knowledge or power.’ White Claw had asked me to walk with him through the mangroves, even the huge crocodiles that inhabit the dark still waters recede quickly when they sense his approach. I have never seen White Claw as a human and there are legends within his pack that he was cursed by the most powerful Aje’ to be stuck in his monstrous wolf form until he dies. I have often come close to asking him if this is true, but in reality I don’t want to know. Is there really wit

This is another level of scary. “We didn’t cross. He slipped, and I pulled him back…we weren't trying to disrespect you.” The femme is groveling, bowing her head as the other wolves follow suit. Light filters through them, letting me see them fully now as they drop to their knees in practiced unison. Leather and hide clothing, bare skin marked by painted tradition rather than exposure. Long dark hair frames faces I can’t quite place, voices shaped by a dialect unfamiliar to my ear, woven from more than one tongue. They look like natives.