Purple Werewolf Novels & Stories

But no—each cry was different, desperate, raw. We turned a corner, and I saw the source. A werewolf—massive, silver-furred, twice the size of Kaid in wolf form was strapped to a tilted metal slab. A thick collar crackled with blue lightning around his neck. Every time he snarled or tried to move, electricity surged through his body. His fur singed. His claws scraped helplessly against the restraints. His eyes met mine—wild, terrified, begging. I swallowed hard. “Kira… what is this?”

And I’ll have to ask Aldrich if he's willing to offer his blood. After our discussion about how the first Cursed Ones gained entry into Altair, I’m convinced that Werewolves are magical beings as well. If I’m successful in carrying out the ritual, it will prove once and for all that the shapeshifting ability of the Werewolves is indeed a form of magic, and they very much deserve to live in Altair like all other magical beings.

So that she wouldn’t have to go through something so terrible again. But if it helped her move on, if it got her in his arms, he would do whatever was necessary to make her his. Even if it meant delving into dark places that might unsettle him. Nora deserved to see justice for her parents. Rogue wolves were wolves that left their packs. That refused to follow orders. That still craved the old ways---back when being a werewolf meant being a creature of uncontrolled rage and power, and killing anything or anyone in your path. They rejected their packs and the rules put forward by them to survive in the modern world. “Yes,” said Roman, “look into it for me. I’ll pay you handsomely for it.”

Its loud, long howl has brought in about 100 purple and blue-eyed wolves. David swallowed his saliva with difficulty because in front of him stood hundreds of purple and blue-eyed wolves. They all hissed angrily with eyes that flashed with great hatred. David's body stiffened looking at the facts before his eyes because the blood descendants of Archelius are still alive today. David thought if the herd Theodor was referring to was an ordinary werewolf or a Rogue. However, the reality is the bloody werewolf Archelius; his blood relatives.

Toya shrugs, like she isn’t sure she actually saw that color, and Kaelin nods because he saw it too. “Purple?” I repeat, mind glitching out because I have never heard of a purple-eyed wolf in my entire life. I have read every genetic record and historical wolf-heritage book we own in both libraries and the docs lab. Purple is not a thing. Red is almost non-existent, but exists…Green, Kaelin’s are the only ones I have seen, but that’s expected for what he is…. Amber is the normal.

I hoped that my eyes were playing a serious prank on me I turned backwards and there was no longer a dog, but a man, I tripped and fell to the ground, while he stood just at my foot, and stared deeply into my eyes I stared back at him, with a shaky body Fear was painted all over my face, when I realized that, he had same grey eyes as the dog, Oh no! He is the wolf! No, it can't be…werewolves aren't real' I said to myself 'They're Fictional, they aren't real'

Her pendant—two wolfsbane branches circling opposed helms—snapped and skittered across the gravel, spinning to a stop in a coppery smear. They dragged. She changed. The growl rose first—wet, subterranean—before the body followed. Bones unzipped and reset; sinew braided and surged; fur erupted through skin. In a breath, where Sara had been, a towering brown werewolf stood, eyes molten gold. Her left arm tore free. The blond didn’t even scream as her claws opened him face to gut, a red curtain dropping in one stroke. “The—fuck—RUN!” the big one choked. Three bolted, boots collapsing into slapstick panic. She didn’t chase.

Joseph took the paper from Alexander’s hand and smacked him lightly, imitating the one his master did earlier. “Hey! What gives? So what if I forgot? You remembered it, anyway.” “That is not the point, Sir.” “Whatever! So, what’s up with that guy?” “He’s a werewolf. He just turned earlier.” Alexander stared at Joseph for a few seconds. “Really?” he asked. “Positive, sir. The scent I picked up couldn’t have been Nicodemus. I know his well enough. And John’s as well.” “I see…” “There’s also another interesting piece of information that I’ve gathered. It seems that this friend of Nicodemus’ doesn’t have that… mark.”

I wonder what he was doing now or where was he? After getting here, I haven't got out of this room. Maybe I should go and apologize. I was rude back there, closing the door at his face. I put on slippers which were also in pink but cute though. It was quite surprising for a she-wolf to prefer pink color. I had a different preference almost in everything among other werewolves.

As my mate begins to glow in a white light, I only have a moment to watch in awe before the battle is upon us. Maeve begins throwing magic everywhere, protection for our pack members, and attacks to the witches that are attacking our pack members. I turn and see Meadow chanting as a film of magic falls over the packhouse. I can see wolves pouring into our pack lands and by the smell of them, they are rogues. The difference between them and normal rogues is that these have a purple glow to them. They’ve been given magic, or at least they are protected by magic.