Pink Werewolf Novels & Stories

My calming signals gave him little reprieve. “Let’s see your wolf. We need to rally the troops.” “The white wolf was better. We could feel her power. This one is weak.” “She served us well.” Peirs gave Sandra false admiration. It was sickening. “The white wolf escaped.” “That wasn’t her fault. Huh, my beauty.” He reached into the cage and petted Sandra like a dog. Ghost’s emotions were all over the place. He still cared for her on some level. Sandra’s canines grew out of her mouth and bit Piers’ hand. He jumped back as she shifted into a small light brown wolf. “Little bitch.” He yelled, and several guns were pointed at her.

She was supposed to be unconscious! The girl's eyes glow a golden hue as she stares at Gee menacingly. She suddenly shifts into her white wolf and starts attacking the other two werewolves, her fangs sinking deep into their flesh. Blood stains the ground as one of the werewolves' limbs' is severed and the other's eyes are clawed. "SHIT!" the other one curses. "What are you standing there for?! Help us sedate the woman!" Gee yells at the vampires. "HOW?"

"Rosh, how many packs of werewolves are living in our area?" I asked Rosh out of my curiosity. "Why?" Rosh asked. "I am just wondering if there is another pack that caused the incident in the amusement park." I replied. "Well, I am sure some Rogues are responsible for this." Rosh replied. "Rogues?" I asked him. "Rogues are wolves that were exiled by the pack." Rosh replied. "Exiled? How?" I was really curious to learn more.

I ask him what he means, and he says that her aura is jsut different. “Everyone has their own aura, but each supernatural species also has its own aura. Werewolves have a white aura which I am guessing is associated with their moon goddess. Dragons all have a reddish-white aura which I guess is related to the fact that we all can breathe fire. Witches have a blueish-purple aura which must be associated with their magic. The woman had a pale purple/blue-grey aura. Not sure what that means, though.” Polaris explains.

The pitch of the entire crowd’s muttering drops an octave. The males gathered closest to us part, revealing a phalanx of females led by a black she-wolf, a gray-haired female in her skin, and another female, maybe in her late thirties or early forties, who is somehow both furry and all woman at the same time. She looks like the NSFW character art that Kennedy downloads on her phone—so much butt and boobs and hips. My wolf draws herself up. She cowered like a pup in front of the males, but for some reason, she doesn’t want to show these females her neck. She’s trembling visibly, but she’s holding her head high.

He was going to be furious enough as it was…but if I didn’t figure a way out of this mess… SLAM. Fuck. They were back. I sighed inwardly, and called to him through the mind link… “...Gray…We have a problem….” ... I suppose the only real way to tell this story is to go back to the very beginning… My name is Marina, but everyone calls me Mari, and I am a werewolf, in the Silver Moon Pack. Before you go there, no, we don’t fight with vampires, no we don’t eat people, no we don’t only change on the full moon.., and no, to just about any other myth that you can think of.

My mom had been captured by rogues for the sole purpose of using and abusing the red wolf’s power, and Grey was determined that it would never happen again. ‘I can’t make any promises.’ Grey replied. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. My wolf was unique. Although mostly black, his paws and a stripe on his chest were a dark red color. The color was so dark it almost looked black, but when the sun shined off of it, you could see the red hue to it. Grey liked to joke that it made him more powerful. I was certain it made him more of a jackass.

A liquid was then poured over his skin that had it melting instantaneously making the man scream in agony, his voice echoing in the dark gloomy dungeon, "Please make it stop," He yelled against the excruciating pain of wolfsbane, a white crystal like powdered substance known as the greatest source of pain and weakness to his kind, the Werewolves, and tonight he ensured this horrific fate in the hands of the infamous Rouge werewolf huntress Katarina Romanov.

Jake caught it mid-air— —and froze. White fire ran under Jane’s skin. Light burst from her wounds as white fur rolled across her body. She rose, an ethereal werewolf, eyes like dawn over ice. One kick sent Sara smashing through a tent frame. “Oh my God,” Kim whispered. Jake stepped in, syringe ready—then the white wolf stood between him and the wreckage, grace and fury in the same breath.

Pale, iridescent pink, like cherry blossoms or rose quartz. We are beautiful, my wolf said proudly. Gasps rippled through the crowd. "A pink wolf," someone whispered. "The prophecy..." "She's the one..." I turned my head—too fast, still getting used to this new body—and caught my reflection in a decorative pool nearby. My wolf was massive, easily the size of an alpha male. My fur shimmered pink in the sunlight, and my eyes... my eyes were the same heterochromatic gold but somehow more vivid. I was beautiful.