Story About Werewolves

Xavier Blackwood is the man every girl at my college dreams about at night, myself included, but I'd never let anyone know that. Standing at 6'8 with steel grey eyes, he's a walking dream, but he's also a world-renowned jerk. Who would have thought that one night, after dragging myself home after doing double shifts at the diner, I'd be jumped by three men...only to have Xavier come to my rescue. Oh yes, Xavier bloody Blackwood saved my life...but the thing I saw, the CREATURE that ripped those men to shreds wasn't the Xavier everyone knows. He wasn't human... He was a wolf, a demon, a creature from myths, and it was the most amazing thing I've ever seen until he attacked me too and knocked me out. Humans that learn about the existence of werewolves have to die. ...There are NO exceptions. The Werewolf Xavier saved me, but now I am condemned to death To make things worse, both Xavier and Axel claim I am their mate ...this can't be good.

As the male lead, Henry Johnston, forces himself on me, a row of comments suddenly appears before my eyes. "Henry is about to misunderstand and think Aria drugged him! The angst is about to begin!" "I'm thrilled just thinking about Henry regretting dearly after Aria dies!" "Keep up the act, Henry. After she dies, you'll be hugging her corpse and crying every day." That is when I realize that I am the tragic female lead in a story where I am destined to be tormented until I die. The readers treat my death as a highlight to push the plot forward. They are counting down to my death. As I look at Henry, who is panting on top of me, anger courses through me. I grab a table lamp and smash it into him, killing him on the spot. Who says that the one who dies in a toxic romance story must always be the female lead?

Kacela is one of the best werewolf hunters in the world. She is in high demand and her services are constantly being requested. She doesn't care who she works for nor the reasons they want the werewolf dead. She hates all werewolves and she's working hard to make sure her secret stays a secret. When Kacela is hired to relocate and take out an entire pack, she's all for it. Problem is, it's not werewolves she's been hired to kill. It's Lycans. And when the Lycan king turns out to be her second-chance mate, it's game on! Fighting against her past, her future and what resides inside of her is exhausting. Add in a relentless, ruthless Lycan king who is determined to tame her, well, things get a little bit rowdy.

Olivia was proposed to by her lover Jacob, but she couldn't agree. They could not make love or even kiss. Because this was a vampire-ruled country, werewolves were vampires' slaves. All werewolf women must remain chaste, because every young girl was a tribute waiting to be chosen by a vampire. Once a girl turned 15, she would enter the annual lottery. Only girls who were not chosen five times in a row were allowed to fall in love with their mate, and vampires considered five years of waiting a mercy. Olivia had not been selected for four consecutive years, and as long as she failed again this year, she could marry Jacob. This year's tribute lottery was special, and all tributes would be dedicated to the legendary Vampire Duke Damien. Olivia was lucky not to be chosen. Unfortunately, her sister became a tribute. To save her sister, Olivia volunteered to be a tribute. Unbeknownst to Olivia, her blood had aroused Damien's interest. When a vampire came looking for the blood pet chosen by Damien, an accident caused Olivia to swap identities with another tribute. Olivia planned to escape, but was found by vampires and became their appetizer. Just as Olivia was about to fall into nothingness, she heard an indifferent voice.“Who allowed you to hurt my pet?”

I had been Silas Sterling's mate for seven years. We decided to get tattoos of each other's names. This was a Binding Tattoo that represented eternal love in the Moonstone Wolf pack. It had the power to bind mates eternally. When I got the tattoo, I realized the malicious words 'Public Male Amenity' had been tattooed on my chest. It chilled me to the bone. My adopted sister, Greta Pound, was the one who tattooed me. She covered her mouth as she laughed. "Don't you always enjoy attracting the attention of all the male werewolves by dressing so skimpily in the pack, Freya? I'm just helping you to publicize this." Greta was a female werewolf I had saved. Why was she treating me this way when I treated her like my sister? I grabbed her hair angrily, but Silas pushed me violently to the side as he pulled Greta protectively into his arms. He frowned as he berated me unhappily, "Greta was just joking with you. Why are you so mad about it?" I stared at his bare chest where my name should be tattooed. However, the name 'Greta' was there instead. She looked up at me from Silas' arms and smiled innocently yet tauntingly at me. "Silas said our names rhymed, Freya, so I played a joke by tattooing my name on him. You aren't mad about this, are you?"

After I studied and lived in Descensio for five years, I finally graduated and was ready to return to my home country to take over my dad's company. When I arrived at the Sullivan Group building, I took a picture and posted it on my Instagram story with the caption. 'Since you're the man I love most, I'm here to see you immediately after graduation.' Yet, a woman appeared out of nowhere and slapped me as soon as I arrived at the company's lobby. "It's her! She's the hussy! She had seduced my husband back in high school. Now that my husband has become the director, she shamelessly showed up here to flirt with him. So, I want you girls to beat her up. I'll take the blame if anything happens." While the woman was cooking up a story about me seducing Marcus Lane, a director of Sullivan Group, others around simply looked on coldly and judged me. She slashed my limited-edition bag to pieces and smashed the expensive seal I wanted to give my dad. "You're just a gold digger wearing and buying fake luxury goods. It's just a few hundred dollars. I can still afford to pay you." However, little did she know that everything I had was real. Even if she and her director husband worked for the rest of their lives, they would never be able to afford to pay for the damages.

Lona was a werewolf living in human society. Her ancestors were weak werewolves who were chased away by other werewolves and had to hide in human society. Tired of hiding the truth about who she was, Lona sneaked into the Alphas' party to get the Alpha King's permission to return to the werewolf community. Here, she not only met Alpha King but also met her mate. Having lived in human society for many years, Lona completely failed to understand the importance of a mate to a werewolf. Would she accept her mate or continue to pursue a human-like love? How things would continue, let's follow the story!

Among the wolf packs in the North, everyone knows very well that Alpha Danny Gardner from the Gronya pack is a lunatic. That wolf is a bloodthirsty and violent menace. He often presses a blood-stained claw against his opponent's throat at the negotiation table. To think that an Alpha like him loves incredibly sexy she-wolves… Recently, Danny has his eye on Serana Allen, a she-wolf from a small pack. The pack has agreed to deliver her to Danny in five days' time just to avoid inviting trouble to their doorstep. When my mate, Alpha Trey Sutton from the Sawyer pack, finds out about this matter, he goes missing for the next three days. By the time I've tracked him down in neutral territory, I happen to overhear his conversation with his Beta. "On the day of the bonding ceremony, once the convoy is done circling around the Sawyer pack's border according to the North's rules, we'll switch the route. Leah will replace Serana in traveling to the Gronya pack." The Beta keeps his voice lowered. "Don't worry, Alpha. The route has been arranged properly. But… what should we do about Leah?" Trey remains silent for a moment. "I can't just sit by and watch Serana fall into Danny's hands. None of the she-wolves who have slept with him can leave his territory unscathed. I will form a temporary bond with Serana. As for Leah… "Well, once the matter is dealt with, she will remain the pack's only Luna." As I stand outside the door, I can feel my blood turning into ice. The Alpha, whom I've loved for so many years, actually plans on marking another she-wolf at my own bonding ceremony…

Two years ago, as a graduate of Werewolf Medical School, I volunteered to go to the most remote and poorest pack, as it had always been my dream to help werewolf patients in need. I heard from my teacher that the werewolves in the Rogue Pack were the poorest and that their living conditions were the worst. Most of the werewolves there were old and weak, so I volunteered to go to that pack as soon as I graduated. After I arrived, I helped them build an infirmary and even set up a blood station. Every year, I led them in voluntary blood donations. But one time—right after I had taken a short break following a blood donation—they turned on me. They slandered me, calling me a selfish and heartless healer. Worse still, they accused me of faking illness, claiming I was lying comfortably in bed while patients were dying—refusing to lift a finger to save them. Not only that, they stormed into the infirmary, seized all my herbs and equipment, and completely trashed the place I had built for them with my own hands. Recalling the days I had spent day and night healing them—only to see my infirmary destroyed and my dream shattered—I let out a bitter smile. I picked up the phone and called the dean of my home pack. "I'm ready to return," I said. "I want to serve the patients in our own pack." Then, without a trace of regret, I left that place behind. However, after I gave up, the whole pack regretted it and begged me to return.

It was the climactic moment of my game, but the enemy's flash bang blinded me. After I reopened my eyes, I found myself in the world of the post-apocalyptic underdog comeback story I'd ranted about to my friend the day before. No, I wasn't the protagonist with a cheat for a system. Instead, I was the cannon fodder who suffered the worst fate. He also had my name. I found myself locked outside the armored vehicle while a swarm of high-level zombies had surrounded me. 'Blast,' I thought. 'All this just because I flamed them? And I just made a pentakill after my 8-win streak!' I told myself to calm down and let my mind do its work, but then the laughter of this body's wife echoed from the walkie-talkie. "Stop covering for him, gunners! We're livestreaming to the whole camp. My husband's going to rip these Tier Six zombies to shreds!" Then, the woman's useless male best friend buzzed with excitement. "I'll have a permanent spot in the inner city if he distracts the horde and they rip him apart in the process, babe!" If this went the way of the original story, I'd beg for help only to get no answer and be ripped apart by the zombies. Fortunately, I wasn't the same coward this guy used to be. The woman kept egging me on. I sneered. I didn't spend years playing competitive games for nothing. And so, I grabbed a high-frequency concussion grenade that could get the attention of every single zombie in a 3-mile radius, smashed the ventilation valve of the armored vehicle, and hurled the grenade inside.