Primal Zodiac Novels & Stories

He looked down at her and then gave a slight smile. “It would lessen the burden on me yes.” He admitted. “This is why I am not a normal wolf Sybil. Primes were gifted by the moon goddess. Given the power to do many things. My connection to them strengthens them and at the same time makes them vulnerable.” Sybil remembered when he was sick with that toxin. Clearly Aries was some sort of catalyst for his people.

full moon light, no Lord, I whispered, but it was too late to lament, I screamed as my body changes into a beautiful dangerous white wolf, now I'm possessed, I bumped out of the window into the woods, you could guess what my game is, it's hunting, hunting for the dark shadow I don't know of, taking a race after a prey I can't even get in touch with, this is what happens every year, This is the calamity I faced, No my parents faced ever since I was born in that full moon light of Taurus, and I have been marked as the princess of Taurus. Karl POV My name is Karl Plato, I was born with the evil range of Leo flame, When I was sixteen, I killed my father after in which he got me mad by molesting

The Anti-Primordial is descending and everything it touches just stops existing, wolves and ground and air all fading into nothing. “Do it,” I tell my children. “I didn’t survive everything just to watch reality dissolve now.” The New Primordial connects to me and I feel it immediately, cosmic power channeling through my Alpha Supreme bonds, using thousands of wolves as a battery to anchor itself in reality. And I start aging.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

I couldn't help but wonder what if it went further, how would that feel? Maybe I felt that way because my birthday was coming up. Wasn't it ironic that I was born on the twenty-fifth of December? As far as I could tell, turning eighteen in the supernatural world really meant nothing. Eighteen was something humans made a big deal of whereas the only day that actually meant something for an angel was the day they stopped aging. That meant that they had reached full maturity and could conduct their duties with no problems. However, maybe the principal didn't apply to me. I was a mortal teenager with raging hormones and at the age of eighteen, nothing was stopping me; not even morals because Zio

I immediately knew it was no other than Zane. I was stunned by his wolf’s beauty, he was absolutely gorgeous; even though he was covered in a little blood. He shifted in his human form, in front of me and OH BOY! Holy mother of all fucks! Zane in his human form was even more beautiful than his wolf form, he was a walking Adonis. The epitome of male beauty and strength. He oozed this sexy yet dangerous aura about him, suitable only for an Alpha. My gazed lowered and Motherfuc —

That body becomes its prison and its home, tethered even beyond death. For most, it is a blessing. The ultimate salvation. A key to Ajooni—transcendence beyond the cycle of suffering. But for others, it is a curse. An unshakable shackle. Zander King was the Death Wolf’s Soul Corona. Its final human form. And that was why he could fight it, wrestle back control. No other host in history had ever managed such a feat. Not even Thaneous. A scream tore from Zander’s lips, his eyes flickering between the beast’s crimson and his own tormented brown before settling—finally—on brown. He gasped, dragging himself forward, his limbs trembling, his breath ragged.

“That alone makes me… less in the pack, I'm a disgrace to them, so you see I deserve the way they treat me. He scoffed surprisingly. “Don’t.” Then his face tightened into a slight frown yet again. “Do not ever say that again, being wolfless does not make you weak.” I stared at him, because no one had ever said that to me before. Not once. “It does, Alpha,” I replied softly. “In this world, it... “No,” he cut in, stepping closer, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that made it impossible to look away this time. “What makes a person weak is how they choose to live, not what they are born without.”

He looked exhausted, his hand rubbing the bridge of his nose as though he was trying to piece everything together. “I am not entirely sure what it all means yet, Chiara,” he admitted, sitting at the edge of the bed. There was honesty in his voice, raw and unguarded. He let out a quiet sigh before giving me a faint, tired smile. “You always manage to surprise me.” “Is it something bad?” I asked, my voice smaller than I intended. He let out a low chuckle, though it carried little humor, and glanced briefly away before meeting my eyes again. “Primordial means you come from one of the oldest bloodlines. A lineage that ruled these lands long before the current packs existed.”

Taking a seat on one of the stools, I opened it up and turned the pages to Lycanthropy. I had already learned about their powers and abilities from my previous read. So I skipped those pages as well, hunting for the answers Zeus refused to deliver himself but through this book. On the third chapter, the mention of soulmates caught my attention. Celebrated among the werewolf kind, soulmates are those rare individuals whose spirits are inextricably linked. They share an unbreakable bond that transcends time and distance, marked by profound emotions, telepathic connections, and a shared destiny.

“You will learn, and we will survive. Together.” The forest seemed to hum in response, a low vibration that settled over the land like a pulse. The trees leaned closer, the shadows deepened, and I felt the connection more strongly than ever. I was not merely a wolf, not merely a Luna, not merely a mother. I was a Primordial. I carried the history of the world in my blood, the power of creation and destruction, the weight of legacy and the promise of freedom.