The Golden Lycans Novels & Stories

The sun was about to set and the yellow lights were turned on in every cottage, making the whole town look beautiful. It was foggy at the peak of the mountain, but I could clearly see the Soare-Luna mountain, which was the tallest mountain in Jivan. Soare-Luna meant Sun-Moon mountains because it was said to be the land of both Sun worshippers – vampires – and Moon worshippers – werewolves. It was said to be the home of God Sol and Goddess Luna. And the Lycan river originated at the top of the mountain. But for some reason, no one had ever made it to the top. I imagined that if it was so beautiful here, it must be exquisite at the top where one would be able to see the entire island of Jiv.

His silky dark hair is hidden underneath a crown and his scarlet eyes are scanning the area for a tiny figure which is hiding somewhere. Even without his wolf, Alexei’s senses are sharper than other werewolves. After all, he is a Lycan. Most werewolves shift when they are 18 but Lycans shift at 15. They are on the top of the werewolf hierarchy. Even Alphas cannot beat them in a fight and their blood is extremely valuable. They are born different and hence, rule over the other werewolf species. “Hee hee!” His sharp senses pick up someone’s snicker and he follows the laughter. It is coming from the small patio which belongs to his sisters, Anna and Maria. But he knows that they are at their da

Emotions had run wild between now and then; excitement, disbelief, discontent, rage, and now a thoughtful silence pervading the four walls like a thick blanket that lulls her back to the bay of sleep’s arms. Avian dips the feathered tip into the glass bottle and carefully lowers it onto the page where she had left, just beneath the grotesque sketch of an original Lycanthrope she had attempted whilst still in the throes of energy. “… Average of ten feet tall, five hundred pounds of muscle and fur that is impervious to the war instruments of man.” The high priest stands at the front left, his cheeks like emptied udders that tremble with each breath, “tapetum lucidum…” highly sensitised night v

Scarlet replied. NOTE: Lycans have a completely different meaning in my book. They are just huge wolves, the double of a normal wolf, with thick white fur and distinct violet eyes, blessed with enormous strength and extinct species, but our Astrid is the only one to exist in the present time. Maybe she got her genes from somewhere you'll know about. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Ayden looked at her seriously and said in a sharp voice: I mean the kingdom of werewolves, and rather, the Lycans. She looked at him to find any sign indicating that he was joking, but he found his attitude very serious, and she thought inside her that he was crazy, so she asked, looking at him, trying to take him as much as his mind: What does the Lycan mean? Are they also delusional like werewolves?

If someone were to walk in they’d see the way he pinned me to the wall, our chests heaving in tandem, and would likely assume the worst. I sucked in a ragged breath as he removed his hand, only the air was thick with his scent. It rushed right to my head, coaxing a whine from my lips that I barely managed to smother in time. Lycans were a vicious, brutal race. I knew that as well as I knew my own name, yet nothing could’ve prepared me for the half-brothers from hell. The blast should’ve broken your spine. Ryker’s eyes were dark with rage, yet I thought I saw something within them falter. It lasted but a split second, a fraction of a moment.

I go to step in and say it’s no longer his choice and refuse to let anyone punish Harlyn, but because I can, one of the pups appears before Harlyn. “No! No one will be punishing my Mummy!” He says, his eyes glowing blue, shit. How is that even possible? His rage emitted from his body. “I did it, and I hurt the princess.” He states. I watch one of the other pups step forward. “And me!” he says, and I stare in shock. His eyes glow red like mine. I peer around Harlyn and see a little girl, her eyes glowing golden. How can they be Lycans? Most don’t unlock it until they are eighteen. I can feel their anger as they glare at Diandra, and I think she is best away from here now.

"For a race with beastly transformation and magic, you guys are awfully quiet. I haven't seen one show of magic since I arrived." Emris shot her a deadpan look, then sighed. "I guess your history books skipped over an important information: Lycans are and have always been peaceful creatures. And our magical abilities?" He held out his hand and a tornado formed; circling his fingers till it vanished into thin air. "Every Lycan either has fire, earth, water or wind. And honestly? It's easy to forget about them." "Why is that?" "Someone with a stronger right arm will use their right hand for everything. Lycans are stronger when shifted, the abilities are simply a plus."

The rest of Lee’s paper: Legend has it that the first lycan was named Vakatow, meaning "Origin" in the ancient tongue. Vakatow's creation was a manifestation of Selene's intense emotion, a sculpture carved from the very essence of her being. With a heart filled with love, she breathed life into Vakatow, and he emerged as a humanoid wolf figure, the epitome of elegance and power. This connection to Selene's emotions made the lycans the favored species, the inheritors of her divine legacy.

That might have gotten you shocked, I know. My name is Jason and as you may have guessed, I am a male werewolf with a hidden past. A past which I had held in high regard and which I believe won't wash away. It was a very remarkable experience. The past experience was that of my past lover and I. We had been so loved up so much that I was shocked to the bone marrow when she died leaving me behind. Before she died, she had promised that she would be back to be with me once more. I had held on to that promise and looked out for her but I never did see her.