The Broken Wolf Novels & Stories

He always got tense when I mentioned about wanting to leave. “I've been meaning to ask you.” I spoke looking at my hands so he wouldn't see the scared look in my eye. “You have told me of packs and communities. Places people are born too. I'm born to nowhere. Is there anywhere for...” I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “For someone like me? Somewhere for abandoned wolves? Somewhere that is safe?” This was playing on my mind a lot over the last few days. Both Liam and Alice explained to me about Rogue wolves, how they live in isolation and kill and cause chaos. I didn't want to become a rogue.

“ The truth. About your wolf. About your bloodline. And about the prophecy they are trying so hard to bury.” ***** The next morning,I awoke to chaos. I dragged myself outside. Curiosity overshadowed my exhaustion. The scene before me left me speechless,the air was thick with smoke,and distant howls echoed across the pack,many wolves were rushing towards the borders. “What's happening?” I asked a nearby wolf. “Rogues.” He said breathlessly. “They have breached the eastern perimeter”. My heart dropped to my foot. Rogues were a rare and dangerous threat. Feral wolves who attack without a reason or prior warning.

And then she got up and built a life, splinter by splinter, with a body that was already failing. While I drank whiskey and stared at rain. My wolf makes a sound. Not the thin spike from the car. Not the fracture from the coffee shop window. A howl. Low, sustained, rising from somewhere so deep inside my chest that I feel it in my spine. It fills the stairwell, bouncing off concrete walls, and I press my hand against my sternum like I can push it back in. I can't. It's grief. That's what this is. My wolf is grieving. For a mate he lost because his human half was too broken to hold her. For a child he never knew existed. For eighteen months of silence that were his version of dying.

"The legends... they undersold you." Fragments of his childhood lessons flashed through our newly deepened bond, images of an ancient scroll depicting the rarest of wolves: an omega who could command alphas, a peacemaker who could paralyze armies with a single cry. The last recorded sighting had been at the Battle of Broken Stars, when one such wolf ended a centurylong war by freezing ten thousand midcharge. Lyra's spine arched unnaturally. Her bones cracked like falling timber as she grew taller, thinner, her fingers elongating into obsidian claws. When she spoke, her voice layered with Genevieve's familiar venom:

The divorce from Sean went off without a hitch. Rowena got the boot and did not get a dime. After Bennett gave her a piece of his mind and everyone else gave her the cold shoulder, she had no choice but to crawl back to Sean. However, Sean was practically broke, barely getting by himself. Supporting her? Not a chance. Rowena's kick had left Sean with a bum leg that twisted as it healed. Due to that, he hobbled around, nearly as good as crippled.

“The Broken Ones.” “What are they?” Elara asked, though dread already told her the answer would be terrible. “Wolves who surrendered completely to old magic,” Maren said, her voice shaking. “Who let it consume them until nothing mortal remained. They should not exist anymore. They were all destroyed centuries ago.” “Apparently not,” Rowan said grimly. The Broken Ones did not slow. They did not assess. They simply attacked. Everything. The crimson-robed forces scattered, their formation breaking as the corrupted wolves tore through their ranks with mindless savagery. Screams filled the air. Blood sprayed across stone and earth.

I said. “Movements, Conflicts, divisions within their ranks.” The older wolf’s expression darkened. “They are already breaking?,” he murmured. “Yes,” I said. “And when something is already broken…” I let the sentence hang because I knew that they understood as the words did not need to be finished. The younger wolf stepped forward again. “Whoever this ally is,” he said slowly, “they must have a reason.” I looked at him. “They do.” “What reason?”

A deafening howl exploded from the top of the altar. As the silver light dissipated, a gigantic silver wolf that was twice the size of a regular Alpha stood imposingly. This was my wolf form. My will was amplified by the howl and shot outward, crushing everything in its path. The Bloodbone pack's warriors at the front felt as if a hammer had struck their heads. Their low-born bloodlines couldn't withstand such overwhelming power. Blood spurted out of them, and their knees shattered under the unbearable pressure, making them kneel on the ground.

I should have known that something was wrong, that something didn't quite fit together perfectly, no matter how many times Althea would beg me to look closer and pay attention. But I didn't, I was blinded by love and the thing us werewolves cherish most, a bond. The bond pulls two individuals together and locks their fate. The bond that traps us werewolves, and the bond that's impossible to break without pain and heartbreak. The mate bond a gift from the moon goddess herself, and look where it's left me, in a room filled with spells that no one could break, no one but the grand witch herself. I tried using my wolf, Hayden, but he isn't strong enough to break the spell or the chains I've been

"What is this? Are you trying to make me feel better or something? Stop it, Allen. I don't need that kind of positive reinforcement. The fact is, I'm broken, right?" "Ash!" Aslan rolled his eyes. "What? Never mind, don't deny it. This has been my condition for a long time, right? Besides, I'm the one with the condition, you don't have to worry about it." Allen sighed. He knew Aslan just hated his condition, but Allen did not like it every time Aslan called himself broken. In Allen's eyes, Aslan was normal. A normal human being. He was just a little different from the other Alphas, and that did not change anything. He was still Allen's little brother, and Allen loved him.