The Millennium Wolves Audiobook Free Novels & Stories

he added, grim. “Exactly,” she said. Malek looked up at the sky. “So, just to sum it up, we need to reach three hundred wolves at once, explain that something inside them that’s been sleeping for four hundred years is waking up, tell them not to freak out, and do it before the most powerful wolves lose control...” He glanced at me. “All from a clearing in the oldest forest on the continent.” “Yep,” I said. “Fantastic,” Malek muttered, pulling out his phone and typing. “What do I say?”

He let himself be the wolf he had never been allowed to be, the wolf who had been buried under years of rage and pain and fear. Lysander sat in the library, reading aloud from an old book. His voice was soft, calm, steady, a gentle flow of words that carried the young wolves into other worlds, into other times, into other lives. The young wolves gathered around him, their eyes wide, their mouths open, their minds hungry for stories of the past. He read tales of the first wolf, of the packs, of the world before the shadow, of the wolves who had built the first territories and the wolves who had kept the peace, of the wars that had been fought and the peace that had been won. He smiled when th

she shrieked, trying to push herself up on trembling arms. The windows exploded inward. Glass showered the room as three massive wolves burst through, their bodies rippling with raw power. Miranda threw her arms over her face, feeling the rush of wind and fur and something ancient that made her own wolf whimper in submission. Daniel scrambled backward, his face drained of all color. The chanting outside stopped abruptly. The three wolves were enormous, each one easily twice the size of normal pack wolves. One had fur black as midnight, another russet brown that gleamed like polished copper, and the third was silver-grey like winter storm clouds.

Not with this cursed band strangling the soul out of me. So I stared, cold and unmoved, letting my silence speak the promise my mouth never could: One day, I will destroy you. One of the books shifted slightly on the table, falling open just enough to reveal images—hand-drawn wolves with glowing, mournful eyes and shattered jaws. Caged. Silenced. Like me. His eyes flicked to the page with casual malice. “These talk about wolves who defied their mates,” he said, like he was discussing a bedtime story.

“Are you okay? Who are you speaking to? I ask, a bit worried. “It's a voice in my head, she calls herself Lyra. I know you might think I'm crazy and probably need to go to an asylum but it's the truth” “I believe you”. I say smiling at her while finally closing the gap between us, I reach out to her once again, patiently waiting and praying for her to take my hands. Just as she reaches out to me, I hear the ruffling of leaves nearby and then a different scent hits me. My instincts to protect her kicks in and I quickly tell her to get behind me while abruptly scanning the area for rogues. As expected, a couple of wolves jump out of hiding and begin circling us, their intent clear as they grow

Tell who you are. The footsteps were slow and deliberate. Then they stopped. There was no sound until I turned. ‘Who are you?’ I echoed again. ‘We have net before.’ She paused and looked at me. I stared back and didn’t say a word. My wolf growled within me, waiting for a go-ahead from me to strike. ‘I am Miranda, the last of the witches of the royal coven.’ ‘Are they not supposed to be extinct?’ ‘We are. But a witch caused me to sleep for a hundred years and I had only recently awoken.’

It locked eyes with the dark brown wolf. Mallory tried moving out of the way but the dark brown wolf snapped at her, keeping her in the area between the two wolves. The dark red wolf backed up and went to lunge. Mallory found herself ducking and the wolf went over her head. It landed in front of Mallory letting out a loud growl and lunged for the dark brown wolf. At the last second Mallory noticed the dark red wolf’s eyes glowing red with an amber ring and knew they were from Red Woods. She was torn between staying with the wolf and continuing her journey for help. If Red Woods were close by she had to let them know what was happening. She took off running.

As we walked, the soft thud of our footsteps echoed through the solemn space. Jeremiah, a wise and weathered wolf with a graying muzzle, carried an ancient book in his hands. Its leather cover was worn, its pages yellowed with age. We reached a magnificent wooden table, carved with the same designs, and Jeremiah gently placed the book upon it. "Lyra," he began, his voice deep and resonant, "this book holds the secrets of our pack's legacy, and within its pages lies the tale of the Silver Werewolf." My curiosity piqued, I leaned in closer, my eyes fixed on the book. "Tell me, Jeremiah," I said, my voice filled with anticipation. "What is the story of the Silver Werewolf?"

She hissed, and the hungry wolf lunged. The sounds of my screams echoed, but there was no one for miles to hear me. ©COPYRIGHT 2025/ T. MURPHY. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED