Silent Wolf Novels & Stories

I had hope that it wouldn't just happen now. But like every other year, at this point I would wish that my name wasn't my name. I would wish that I wasn't Allison Bush, the last air of the Bush who actually is the only one that turns into a full wolf on a full moon. I was trying to run from that and some other things.. But then again, you can't run away from yourself!!

“I just had to sneak out because it’s a full moon and I didn’t want anybody to know that I didn’t have a wolf.” “Ohhh.” She muttered under her breath. “But you told me you found your true mate, right?” I nodded. “Yes.” “So he didn’t figure out that you were wolfless? How did your wolves sense each other?” She asked, lowering her voice. I blinked at her question, my throat suddenly dry. “I don’t…. I don’t know.” I replied, confusion creeping into my tone. “I just felt it. I don’t know how. But I know that he's my true mate. One can’t deny the connection.”

Its gaze felt heavy; I felt uncomfortable under its watchful eyes. I took a few steps towards it. It watched me silently. When I almost got close, it began to circle me again. This time slower, closer. Its massive shoulders brushed against mine. I caught the wild scent of its fur. A low rumble rolled from its chest, vibrating in my bones. I stood in place, allowing it. It hummed with a deep voice; it almost felt like a purr, but it wasn't. WHITE WOLF This time the voice seemed to be all around me at once. The air thickened with something I couldn't name.

she whispered to herself, “you’re just tired. Hungry. That’s all.” A branch snapped behind her. She froze. Her eyes darted toward the sound. “Who’s there?” she whispered, her voice sharp. No answer. Just the slow creak of trees. Then another sound—low, guttural, too heavy to be the wind. A growl. Her pulse spiked. “No…” she breathed. “Please, not now.” The growl grew closer. A pair of yellow eyes appeared in the darkness, glowing faintly in the firelight. The rogue stepped into view—a massive wolf with scars running down its flank, fur matted and dirty. Its lips curled back to reveal jagged teeth.

I thought for sure I was going to die here this time. But the agonizing pain I anticipated never came. A massive dark shadow leaped over my head, slamming into the Rogue and sending it flying. It was a pure silver-grey wolf. It was a full size larger than the Rogue, and with just one move, its fangs tore the Rogue's throat wide open. The Rogue's corpse collapsed at my feet. The silver-grey wolf slowly turned its head. Its eyes were amber, like melted honey. The very moment our eyes locked— The wolf inside me, who had been dormant for over twenty years, suddenly threw her head back and let out a clear, ringing howl. It was a feeling I had never experienced before. It felt as though a thread h

* **Silas’s POV** The hunt was supposed to be an extraction of rage, a brutal ritual to bleed off the volatile, possessive jealousy that had been clawing at my ribs since the gala. I tore through the dense northern wilderness in my shifted form—a massive, silver-grey timber wolf cutting through the undergrowth like a ghost. Behind me, the heavy, rhythmic thud of a hundred high-ranking alphas shook the forest floor. The wind rushed past my ears, sharp with the scent of pine and frost, but my mind was entirely trapped back at the palace.

There was nothing left to say to her. Mateo nodded to his men. They helped Rhett up from the floor. He could stand, barely, leaning hard against the man on his left. The Shift-Lock had been released, but the damage was done. A wolf who spends too long in that state loses the connection between their human mind and their animal. The animal does not die. It simply goes to sleep and never wakes up again. Rhett Voss was now a Silent Wolf.

My chest beat erratically but the air only hung above me, untouched. Suddenly, two large predatorial eyes jumped through the snow towards me. Mane was sleek silver, snow dusting its shimmering tendrils. My arrow angled towards the mongrel. Burning eyes glowed, staring back at me with a sneer. My hands trembled. Sweat broke on my forehead. I had heard of these special wolves. Bigger, faster, more ferocious than the average beast. Never had I come in direct contact, but I knew… it was more than I had bargained. Out here… alone.

female—a silver prize with the mark of the Priestess. Three shadows emerge from the brush on the far side of the clearing. They are ragged, scarred wolves with eyes the color of stagnant water. Silas leads them, his muzzle grey with age and malice. He doesn't see me in the shadows; he only sees the silver wolf standing over a fresh kill. “A stray,” Silas’s psychic rasp echoes through the clearing, oily and invasive. “A beautiful, unranked stray with a feast to share. Move aside, little moon, and maybe we’ll let you keep a bone.”