The Longing Of Lone Wolves Novels & Stories

Warriors clutched one another’s forearms in tight grips, grounding themselves in the only thing left that did not falter: bond, blood, pack. Lena’s gaze wandered from the fires to the faces. She saw Maren, shoulders hunched but eyes blazing through her tears. She saw Orrin, cradling the blade of a fallen brother across his knees as if refusing to let it be burned. She saw wolves she had trained with, laughed with, who would never lift their voices again. Her wolf stirred beneath her skin, restless, pressing against her ribs with sharp claws of mourning. The wolf wanted to howl—to tear sound from the air and hurl it at the sky. And when the elders’ chant reached its end, that is exactly what

“Plus you’ve heard how sexual wolves can be. He’s probably just looking for a score then he’ll move along.” “Why are you doing this, Leya? Stop trying to talk yourself out of liking him. Yes wolves are said to be very sexual, but mostly with their mates. And we both know that when they find their mates they usually get one track minds and don’t think about anyone else. That is one thing for sure I know they have up on humans. I would love to have someone that dedicated to me so that I wouldn’t have to worry about him cheating on me. Just embrace it and you guys can figure out all the other stuff one step at a time. I can already tell you like him.”

I need a hunt and the solitude of the forest to pester my instincts but my father's unreasonable commands held me bound while he enjoyed his ever-growing number of slaves in his deserted land. He knew Lycans grow agitated when mateless as the years pass. Probably he was counting on a killing spree that he could use to amplify his fear while he was isolated past oceans. Hashtan cleared his throat, “That wretched land had sure corroded your humor.” I slowly turn my head to him and he's fast to raise his hands, “I’m your servant, my Lord, there to please you.” I snort at the puppet and face ahead. The intoxicant liquor taunted my forbearance further. Such frivolities were for lesser men, if cre

Oscar smiled. "Thank you for telling me," Indianna nodded. "May I ask, how comes you weren't a rogue? What's the different between a rogue and a lone wolf?" "Rogues are wolves that leave the pack out of choice. They are wolves that no longer want to be in the hierarchy of a pack. Lone wolves don't have a choice. Lone wolves are rejects, people that are kicked out, forced to leave. You can leave out of choice and be a lone wolf, but only if you still have the intention of being in a pack. If you don't... then you're a rogue."

I could picture a bright day for Lucian and me, I could imagine Lucian fighting with different men to save me. I started to daydream of Lucian and me, together. Then the dangerous wolves would come to take me away from him. I imagined Lucian fighting them all to save me… it was the happiest time of my life. But then I taught, if I wanted all the things I dreamt of, I had to be there for him. I quickly transformed into a wolf and went back to my house. I was going to pick out my best dress for Lucian’s ceremony. Lucian’s POV

Looking at his child, I couldn’t help wondering, if my Jimmy were still here, would he be that big now? [May 11. I’m almost out of money. Joan won’t give me a cent. We had a fight. I cried until I could barely breathe. I looked at the window and even thought about jumping. I don’t know how much longer I can hold on. I feel like a sinner.] Joan’s breathing grew more and more labored. Her heart felt as though it were being torn apart, yet she continued reading the journal as a form of punishment. Beneath the entries were countless comments from kind strangers who cared about Jimmy.

"Don't tell me you're actually thinking about getting back together with her." Another person frowned. "You're leaving the country soon. Why would you give Samantha hope now? Aren't you afraid she'll keep clinging to you?" The private room quickly filled with questions. No one understood why I had seemed to soften at the last moment. So I explained, "Instead of letting her give up completely, I'd rather let her keep waiting with hope. The best punishment is for her to spend the rest of her life waiting for something that will never come." … On the day I finally boarded my flight, everyone understood what I meant.

With 12 wolves whose moons were scarred but steady. Because 200 years of bleeding taught them this: You don’t fight the end of the world with claws. You fight it with choice. They traveled 40 days. Through forests where pups learned the Bleeding Way. Through cities built around Circle stones. Through deserts where gray moons slept under stars. Everywhere, wolves asked: “Why does the sky feel lighter?” And Asha answered: “Because one moon is missing. And when it’s gone, we’ll forget how to bleed together.”

Someone had poured their understanding of wolves, of solitude, of yearning, into this piece. Someone who knew what it felt like to be powerful and utterly alone.

It was a sight I had yearned to witness for five long years—a sight that filled me with a sense of contentment and longing all at once. As I stood by the bedside, a voice echoed within me—a voice that was both mine and yet separate. It was the voice of the wolf that resided within me, a part of my very essence. The wolf, a creature of raw instinct and unwavering loyalty, had remained silent for so long, kept at bay by the seal I had placed upon it. But tonight, in the presence of the woman I loved and our pup, the wolf's presence could not be contained any longer. With a surge of energy, the wolf's consciousness intertwined with mine, its thoughts and feelings becoming a part of my own.