Silent Wolf Novels & Stories

The wind howled through the narrow, snow-choked streets of Snowridge, as if warning anyone who dared to venture out into the deadly storm. Asha Frostheart, her face partially hidden beneath a fur-lined cloak, moved swiftly through the thick snowfall, her white wolf companion, Ghost, at her side. The blizzard's icy bite pierced through her layers of clothing, but her focus remained unbroken.

But hopefully, this would just be the standard, run-of-the-mill, confused rogue. We followed the scent to a rocky hill that turned into a mountain, continuing up some rugged terrain. We dug our sharp claws into the stone, making our way up quickly and efficiently, stopping at a plateau partway up. Resting on the ledge, looking over the forested land, was a she-wolf with thick, dark-brown fur and icy-blue eyes. The three of us instantly surrounded her as she got up onto her four legs, turning to face us. She slowly moved her head, making eye contact with each of us one by one, her face emotionless.

“It’s petty, but this person could be of use to us. Have you heard the story of the White Wolf?” “No.” Hemlock groaned and shook his head at me. I felt like I shouldn’t have said anything while he looked at me like I was stupid. “The White Wolf is a bitch called Sylvia, who looks like a dog; just like you. Her fur is pure white, so you can’t miss her, but she is very fast. We tried to capture her in the past a few years back with another Soul Stealer, but she found out our plan and ripped his head off. She has two children, Ringo and Orlando; you can try to get to her through them if you can. Her brother, Xaivier, is always around; killing him first before making a move would be wise.”

And the hand-drawn pictures showed magnificent animals, sometimes poised on a rock in the moonlight, other times racing through woods. The first chapters of the book were devoted to the history of shifters and the explanation of the Slavic term for them, vlkodlak. Now why did that suddenly sound familiar to her? Of course! Her neighbor, Mike Volka. He'd said his ancestry was Slavic. Was that the reason for his interest in werewolves? She needed to get the book out again and get back into it. She replaced what she called her library clothes with sweats and a long-sleeved tee shirt, leaving off her bra, a treat she gave herself in the privacy of her own home. Then she fed Mischief, fixed herse

The fragile peace, painstakingly rebuilt after the internal strife, was shattered by a chilling discovery. During a routine patrol near the Whisperwind Glade, a young Duskwood wolf, Elara, stumbled upon a series of ancient, rune-covered stones, half-buried in the earth. The runes, unlike any seen before, pulsed with a faint, unsettling energy, a cold, ethereal glow that sent shivers down her spine. She immediately reported her finding to Lyra, who, recognizing the gravity of the situation, summoned an emergency council.

in the back of my mind. Before I could answer, a group of Loyalists emerged from the dense fog at the edge of the ward. They were led by Sila, a young female wolf who had once looked at me with hero-worship. Now, she was carrying her young pup, whose fur was matted with a strange, oily sweat. "My Queen," Sila whispered, kneeling so low her forehead touched the frozen dirt. "My son... he’s crying. Not because he’s hurt, but because he says he can't 'Hear the Moon' anymore. He says all he hears is your Clock."

however, badly wounded and about to die, he was dragged down the river that took him to an untouchable forest known as the forbidden cold forest, the warrior didn't know who took him out of the water but when he woke up with the little strength he still had, he entered the forbidden forest. The warrior named Hatem heard the legend of the protector of that forest, a wolf spirit, which was not a common wolf-like another, it was a gigantic animal black as coal and eyes like silver, that wolf was called snow fang, not because of the color of his fur, that's for sure, but because with each step, he took all around him froze as if it was the cold winter but curiously the spirit will preserve the l

Its dark eyes assessed her with a predatory glaze. After a few moments Adelaide relaxed her stance and moved to stand in front of the wolf. It growled in aggression as she neared, and she let out her own grumble, from deep in her chest, to warn it off of making any movements. “Submit,” She spat. Their eyes met as the wolf worked hard to resist her words. She recognised the wolf, it had been at the Moon Valley. The scent of purity clung to its skin, the scent of the Moon, and she wondered why it was here.

And what a thrill it was to feel freedom to the fullest. But this stupid creature was not going to turn off when he saw me on his way. I won't turn back either! My beast was driven by adrenaline from the anticipation of the hunt, and my heart beat wildly against the ribs. Jumping on the creature, I dug my claws into it, tearing its flesh. The wildling howled heart-rendingly, trying to throw me off. Will not work! Just because you're bigger doesn't mean you're stronger! I bit into his neck, trying to reach his throat. And all this time my fire did not go out! As a result, the victory was for me, and not even ashes remained from the enemy. My she-wolf was satisfied with the fight and was eager

“Are you okay? Who are you speaking to? I ask, a bit worried. “It's a voice in my head, she calls herself Lyra. I know you might think I'm crazy and probably need to go to an asylum but it's the truth” “I believe you”. I say smiling at her while finally closing the gap between us, I reach out to her once again, patiently waiting and praying for her to take my hands. Just as she reaches out to me, I hear the ruffling of leaves nearby and then a different scent hits me. My instincts to protect her kicks in and I quickly tell her to get behind me while abruptly scanning the area for rogues. As expected, a couple of wolves jump out of hiding and begin circling us, their intent clear as they grow