Spirit Wolves Novels & Stories

she whispered, as a beak full of silver fur landed on the inside of the window. The bird flew off with a beak full of seeds, and Saffy examined the silver fur. It was so soft, and as she looked out of the window. Saffy's mouth dropped open at what she was seeing. The garden was full of birds who were busy taking the silver fur which the wolf left when he was rolling on his back. Saffy ran down the stairs and stormed into the garden. This was unbelievable; it was a dream, a bloody dream. There were no such things as Werewolves and fairies and flipping unicorns. Was she losing her mind? Huh, without a doubt.

Right now, I need him. We head into town. We share the town with another pack called Red River. The town has shopping, restaurants and bars. We head to our favorite bar called The Hound. When we arrive several wolves, greet us as we walk to the bar. The owner Tommy pours us whiskey. “You feeling okay?” Devin asks. I hang my head and down my drink and Tommy pours me another. “No man I’m not. I feel lost.” I reply. “Dude go and get her. This feeling is not going to go away until she is back with you.” Devin tells me. “I can’t she doesn’t belong here with me,” I down another drink and get a refill.

In front of her in the thick nothingness stood a massive wolf; its silky white fur glowed blue in the dense darkness. "Eira?" she mumbled confusedly. "Wake up, Nueva." The wolf spoke again. "You need to wake up." "I can't," Nueva sniffled. I am not strong enough. Her eyes closed again, and her head felt like a magnet stuck to a metal sheet. "Your friends need you. Now, wake up," The wolf growled, baring its sharp teeth. Nueva searched within her deepest core, letting the energy of her supernatural beast flood her. Then finally, she forced her heavy eyes to open, and the reality rushed in like a raging avalanche.

Anahita Waterwolf POV We waterwolves have resettled on the banks of the Dream River that runs through the place once known as the Barren. Though to use the word 'barren' in relation to this magnificent place feels ridiculous. Many mornings I sit on the balcony of the packhouse, before the pack stirs, gazing out at the churning, roiling, foaming waves of the river, its banks densely packed with rich, dark mud. The colours of the river at dawn--blue, mauve, purple, indigo, green--remind me of the lifestone and that night when the poison was driven out. The lifestone disappeared, it's work done. And Silvia's iron--the physical iron anyway--was also gone.

As for me, my wolf Jasper was restless, yearning for the comfort only a wild run couldovide. Stephanie reaches for me, desperation in her grip, as I storm through the packhouse’s front door. With a swift motion, I knocked her hand aside. Her drama is the last thing I need. Tears brim in her eyes, a silent plea I refuse to acknowledge. I whirl around, the door slamming with finality, its echo chasing me. As my form shifts into Jasper, my wolf spirit, we sprint into the embrace of the woods, our minds a tangled web yearning for solitude.

In the place where our pack waited. And our pack was ready. Not with weapons. Not with magic. But with something the Voids could not understand. Could not consume. Could not corrupt. Love. Freely given. Unconditional. Pure. Every wolf held hands. Formed a circle. Created a barrier not of power but of connection. Of the pack bonds that had survived everything. That would survive this too. The Voids crashed against that circle. And burned. “Impossible,” they screamed. “Love cannot destroy us. Cannot burn us. Cannot—”

Was he really that out of shape or had he really just ran as fast as he could up here. Probably the latter. "Okay. Continue." I said nodding to Ivy. "You crazy ass, anoyying Alphas." I heard her say under her breath making me smirk. Usually Id kill someone for the disrespect but from her, I didn't care. After everything Ivy has done for Star a few words don't hurt me. "Star doesn't have the same wolf spirt as a normal wolf, I don't know how to explain.. but White wolfs have an extra unique glow about them like an Aura."

All whispering. “Speak to me one at a time,” she said aloud, her voice cracking with effort. “I can’t hear you all like this. I can’t help you if I can’t understand.” The voices quieted. And one stepped forward. A wolf spirit, translucent and ancient, with scars carved into its form by battle and time. Its voice was female and low, like distant thunder. “You carry what we could not. That is why we chose you.” “I didn’t ask to be chosen.”

The wolf jumped again towards the Cursed until they were slammed into a tree. Hugo's breath jolted out, his gaze turned angry. Aryadi grunted in front of his enemy's face while sticking his claws into the man's chest. Hugo shouted out once. His body trembled for a moment before yawning and quickly turning into a wolf in red fur. Aryadi the black wolf gave a startled voice. Hugo took advantage of that split second by throwing the wolf Aryadi's body. Aryadi was thrown several fathoms while Hugo stood tall in his form as a wolf proudly.

The transformation was awe-inspiring, a testament to the depth of her connection to the ancient spirits that dwelled within her soul. Gasps of astonishment rippled through the pack members as they beheld the majestic form of the Arctic wolf, its fur shimmering like moonlight on freshly fallen snow. Xavier, his heart a tumult of emotions, watched in stunned silence as his mate embraced her true nature, a creature of legend and myth, standing defiant amidst the chaos of war. "How's this possible?" He whispered to himself, his voice a mere whisper amidst the cacophony of battle. For in that moment, he beheld the fulfillment of a dream long cherished, a vision of his mate transformed into the em