Skinwalkers Novels & Stories

One of them asked, and Sam answered. " The spirit wolves in my pack are small in number. The rest of the pack consist of Apex werewolves and werewolves like yourself. The spirit wolf pack has only four bloodlines. The Alpha, Beta, Gamma and Delta. I am the only golden wolf and Alpha of my generation. There are 16 silver wolves and they make up the Beta bloodline. There are 12 silver-bronze wolves and they make up the Gamma bloodline. There are 18 bronze wolves and they make up the Delta bloodline. That is the total number of spirit wolves that exist. You need not worry because you won't get bullied, beaten or killed if you do not disrespect them." she advised with a smile, knowing that my pa

As I hop out of my Range Rover, I see that a council elder is standing at the door waiting to greet me. It’s not a very far drive from Slick Paw to the council headquarters. Even though they have a chamber in Black Claw’s palace, their central offices are located about 2 hours away from our pack. It’s located on the edge of 4 pack territories and looks more like a four-story office building than anything else. From the outside and those not a part of the supernatural world, you would never know this is the seat of Wolf Nation, outside of our capital in Black Claw.

The temperature dropped drastically, the wind that blew felt colder, piercing the skin's surface. The trees swaying in the wind dance a dance of death that is both beautiful and magical, their dance accompanied by the sound of dry leaves, and the leaves singing as the wind blows them. The hoarse singing was muffled, their singing was like a muffled screams. It was like someone who wanted to scream with his neck choking hard, someone who was in a transitional period between life and death. They sang and danced as if it was the end of the world. The last day that humanity can taste before everything is destroyed with nothing left

He does some crazy shit and the times when he takes me along for the ride are the only times I feel alive. It's a week before Thanksgiving and Finn asked if I wanted to hang with him while Harper is at work. So, here we are on a gravel road miles outside of town. Finn is sitting on the hood of his car, smoking a joint, as he always seems to be doing. I'm walking down the road, letting the cold wind bite into my skin. It's a surprisingly cool day and it matches my mood. Today I woke up in pain at the thought of Thanksgiving quickly approaching. My first Thanksgiving without Wilder.

Bjorn whispered without knowing why. Walkers clad in animal skins and covered in dirt gathered around the docking point. They were beast-like, these surface dwellers, with hoofed lower limbs and bodies covered in fur. Caps crowned with ram horns protected their barrel-shaped heads. Although long and punctuated by a few odd points, their facial features were similar to those of Cloud citizens. Historical records identified this group as part of the satyr forest species. Portside to shore, a hide-away platform slid from the lower deck. Surrounded by armed marines front and rear, Bjorn’s father marched across the platform. As he drew near, the Walkers took a knee and bowed their heads.

, she was playing with them and they knew it, but Andrew Williams didn't. "Who else witnessed this?" "I did", Skylar spoke up, backing her favorite office friend up on this one because they both dislike Neumann. "I had gone to give Neumann the update on decrease in e-reads but he was drunk and he waved me off", Skylar said matter-of-factly. Everyone trusted Skylar to the point where Neumann was already starting to doubt himself, thinking he had actually been drunk. Where Skylar speaks, Jacob backs up. Jacob has tried numerous times to take Skylar out because he liked her but she was oblivious to his flirts.

Screams and shrieked erupted through the underground city but no one, except them, was able to hear it. "It's showtime!" Jordan roared as the whole group chorused with a synchronized "aye". They quickly jumped towards the city with scorching fire beneath it. Not even caring that they were landing on the ground with 10 feet distance. The Black Wolf's Clan were already used to this kind of stunt. They were just like to hear scream in the air and they effortlessly landed on the ground as they maneuver their footsteps and balance to land easily, avoiding the fire and the debris of the bomb explosion.

a voice whispered. It was a small, trembling sound—the kind of sound a rabbit makes when it's cornered by a pack of wolves. I straightened up, my skin prickling. I didn't think; I just moved. I didn't care that I didn't have a stitch of clothes on. I didn't care that my knuckle tattoos were still red from the cold. I followed the sound toward the back, my bare feet silent on the rubber matting. Miller and two of the freshmen were crowded around a corner. They were laughing, Miller’s large hand braced against a locker, pinning something—someone—into the shadows.

And then, she saw them. Figures. Not humans, and not wolves. They moved with a jagged, insect-like grace along the vertical faces of the canyons. They were draped in rags the color of dried blood, and their eyes—wide and pale—did not reflect the light. They were the Glass-Walkers, the descendants of the scouts who had been abandoned in the canyons during the Great Drought. "They're not attacking," Mara whispered, peering through a brass telescope. "They're... following us. Like a funeral procession."

“Can he hurt her with that?” “I don’t know, bro. Skin walkers don’t really mix into gen pop with other dark creatures. They’re rare and they’re loners.” Bronx frowns and looks at the ceiling. “Other than a couple werebears who are probably wandering around Canada, I don’t know any indigenous people to pull a favor. We can call Henri. His pack has ties to a couple of covens. If anyone knows for sure, it would be him, or he can find out.”