Owl House Novels & Stories

Sofiah walked into the dining room. "How was your night, Sofiah?" Mum and Aunt Ashley asked at the same time. Sofiah smiled as she replied "My night was well. Hope y'all slept well" she looked around "Yeah, we all did" Mom replied. Uncle Luca had been weirdly silent all the while, until he spoke up. "Sofiah" She looked at him and gave a curt nod. What's up with them? "Where's my baby boy? Where's Oliver?" Aunt asked. "Here I am, Ma'am" Oliver gracefully descended down the stairs as he walked up to where his mom sat, and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

He would keep this dress for when his newest maid was away. As she turned to leave after hanging up the dress, he grabbed her arm and went closer to her so he could give her a warning. “I haven't forgotten your punishment, Omega.” He watched her pale and scurry away, and he let his smile take over his face and envelope his features. She was a very expressive toy. None of the other wolves he had been with were like her. He looked forward to making her face make even more of those expressions. When the slave had gone out of the room, he sat in there and grabbed the red dress off the hanger. It was faint, but he caught the scent of her - a vanilla mixed into the smell of pure woman.

Thanks to the spell, the apartment is also sound proof so that no shifter can listen in on our conversations. “Did you see the way he was looking at you,” squeals Olivia. “I really don’t care. I am with Aspen.” “But he might not be your mate,” says Oliver as he plops down next to us on the new sectional couch. “I highly doubt he isn’t.” “Well if you don’t want the new wolf, I do,” says Oliver, making me and Olivia laugh. “He’s all yours Oliver,” I laugh.

, but the bodyguards outside kept a straight face no matter how hard he tried. Matthew was annoyed just hearing his name, forget meeting him. Just when Oliver was growing desperate, the butler came out to inform him, “Mr. Jones, Mr. Yale invites you in.” Oliver perked up and hurried in instantly. There was a huge metal cage in the backyard of the club. Before Oliver went close, he could smell a decaying stench in the air. He was alarmed but could only brace himself and continue going. To his surprise, there were two vultures kept in the cage!

A few hours earlier... An expected call lights up my phone, and Jason Valentine, “the Wolf,” appears on the screen. Oliver was the one who found him and met with his Wolves in the Underground. The Underground is the secret headquarters of the Wolves below the floors of the BCO Hotel I own in Williamsburg. They wanted discreet access to New York, and they needed my territory in Brooklyn, so I gave them what they asked for. Oliver had seen them in action, and I had been supporting their vision for a couple of years now in exchange for protection and aid whenever necessary.

he asked. "It was up in the attic with everything else. I found it last Halloween, shortly after I moved into the house." "Interesting. Well, where do you want it? He should have a place of honor. You know Halloween is an unofficial holiday for wolves." Jamie gave him a skeptical look. "I don't think I've ever heard that before. Wait. You're just making it up right?" He shook his head. "Not at all. I, uh, read it somewhere before."

They scattered, moving out of sight, hoping not to draw his attention. But there was one person who had nowhere to hide. In the depths of his mansion, past the lavish halls and grand chambers, lay a place unseen by the outside world, a dungeon carved into the very foundation of his estate. Cold. Isolated. And within it, his property. Orlanda. The heavy door groaned open as Oswald stepped inside. The dim light flickered across the walls, casting shadows that danced ominously. She was there, just as he had always left her, lying on the bed. Empty plates and cups were beside her, signalling she had breakfast and lunch.

Releasing her wolf there was almost impossible. The only exception had been with Mitchell. Together, they would sneak into the backyard, shift, and let their wolves run side by side beneath the night sky. Her chest tightened at the memory. “Look at them,” Ophelia said, nodding toward the wolves nearby. “So excited, so free. But the moment an elite wolf shows up…” She exhaled heavily. Lucille’s brow furrowed. “They use this place now?” Ophelia nodded grimly. “They always have. Have you forgotten?”

Because it’s not a performance. Lenox trails behind us, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed. But I can feel his attention sweeping the hall, catching every movement, every whisper, every shift in energy. He’s not worried. He’s just doing his job. We pass a group of younger wolves clustered near a doorway. They fall silent as we approach, eyes widening when they see Oakley. One of them—barely more than a teenager—leans toward another and whispers something that sounds suspiciously like, “Is that a witch?”

“Want to share one?” “I never turn down sweets.” He grabs a plate and two forks and goes onto the screened-in porch. “You seem to like it out here.” “I do.” I flick on the overhead fan, feeling the heat of the day hit us as soon as we step out. “And Tulip does too.” Owen smirks. “I have a really good crazy cat lady joke right now.” “No pussy jokes anymore?” He laughs. “I can always come up with one.” “I’m sure you can come up with one.”