Non Fiction Werewolf Books Novels & Stories

"Not much," I replied with a frown. Tyler hovered over the books. One was an ancient leather-bound volume, its pages yellowed with age and filled with hand-drawn illustrations. The text either appeared to be printed somehow, or handwritten by someone with more patience and consistency than I could ever hope to possess. It was titled A History of Lycanthropy, and it detailed some notable packs, wars and werewolf related incidents of the past.

Pascal responded "no, you are being followed by the vampires, be careful" Jack Rich's face darkened "I am sorry, I wasn't aware, I will be more careful, next time" Pascal didn't pursue the matter anymore "any news?" he asked immediately. "Yes, I was able to track down some werewolves in the City, they are very few, only one thousand werewolves," Jack Rich told Pascal. Pascal wasn't surprised "that is huge, and how many packs are there in the City?" he inquired. "None, the vampires get rid of any Alpha immediately, they rule the City, and they are not ready to share it with the werewolves, when are you coming out of isolation?" Jack Rich asked with expectation.

Alex opened his eyes, even though it was only lit by the light from the moon coming in through my bedroom window I could still see the color of his eyes. "What are they doing?" "Ah ... Werewolves are creatures that need a pack, just like a pack. And sometimes not having a pack can make the werewolf a little frustrated to the point of going crazy, rogues often attack pack members, even injure them. They are dangerous, Cara. Sometimes they even form herd of fellow rogues to attack the pack." Alex yawned as he finished explaining it to me, his face looking very tired. "Oh ... " I replied while yawning, "I have to go to school tomorrow, I guess I should continue my sleep."

I didn’t really want to stick around for those questions. “Ton of requests for your services, but there’s one in particular I think you should seriously take a look at,” he said. He sounded excited instead of his usual bored self, so my interest was piqued. “Tell me about it.” “Some super rich guy wants a pack taken out. Says that they run a lumber mill and it’s in direct competition with his.” I made a noise. I didn’t care why the guy wanted the werewolves killed. It never interests me.

Her body is more lean and thin, but I wouldn’t underestimate her. Not only was the dinner situation unexpected, but my wolf paced restlessly in my mind. Alora, my beautiful reddish-brown furred wolf, mumbled under her breath constantly. She mentioned mates but then acted confused and said they weren’t mates. I definitely felt a pull to both of the strangers, but it was weak. I agree with Alora’s confusion. The guy was a vampire and the woman smelled like a human yet not, code for witch in my senses. There is no way I could been mated to either one of them, never mind both!

The library had revealed its secrets to me, and I would seize this opportunity to uncover the truth, no matter the challenges that lay ahead. As I delved deeper into the mystical pages of the book, my eyes alighted upon a page that trembled with ancient knowledge. My breath hitched, and my heart quickened as I read the words that seemed to leap off the parchment. The page revealed a hidden truth, a forgotten chapter in the history of the City of Grapetown. It spoke of an era long past, when the streets I walked upon were dominated by the majestic presence of werewolves. These noble creatures, born with the moon's touch upon their souls, had once reigned supreme in the shadows, their power un

she asks, her voice quiet but firm. I nod my head, leaning back in my chair. "Yes. Most of the books in here are true accounts, histories of werewolves and Lycans from the past. Stories passed down through generations." Rosalee nods her head in understanding, her fingers tightening around the book before she turns and walks toward the black leather couch in the corner of my office. She sits down, curling her legs slightly beneath her, and flips open the book, immediately engrossed in its contents.

Maybe I was imagining it, but the library suddenly felt at least ten degrees warmer. I focused my attention back on the books in front of me, now that Cole had added a few. I could feel his gaze still on me, but I tried to ignore it as best as possible. Then I turned a page and the book really did grab my entire attention. On the pages I found a record of all the packs of the werewolves, not just the Grandmoon Pack. I turned the page, hoping to find some record of the Western Pack. Sure enough, there was indeed a record of the western pack, but it was just a few sentences.

"Depends on the wolves, really. These ones? Traditional. Bound to cultures, customs, rituals, and strict hierarchy. Honestly, they cling to traditions more than any other supernatural creature I know. It's their method of staying grounded and hidden." That word—supernatural—makes me freeze, the last vestiges of my human denial crumbling away. “Wait. What other supernatural creatures? I thought we were the big secret.” "Hardly." Her mental tone is one of indulgent superiority. "Vampires. Witches. Fae. Demons, if you want to be dramatic. The things you always thought were fairy tales? They’re very real. They don't all live in a secret world; they just live in their world, which often overlaps

I got up from the bed and walked around the room, still no pain, how weird. I noticed the bookshelf and decided to take a look. There were so many books, some with older worn covers and others a bit more newer looking. I picked up a small red book and read the cover ‘A Lycanthropy Reader; WEREWOLVES IN WESTERN CULTURE’. I flicked through the pages and put it back on the shelf, a little too intense for some early morning reading. I picked up another one and read the cover, ‘The Garden of Eden’ by Ernest Hemingway. Not what I expected from a teenage werewolf soon-to-be-Alpha. I put it back and my eyes fell on a really older looking book. I pulled it out and it was big and very heavy. It looked