The Millennium Wolves By Sapir Englard Novels & Stories

The pain she endured, the grace with which she surrendered to it…it was not just a transformation. It was an awakening. I trace the rim of the empty bowl in my lap, the scent of crushed valerian and wolfsage still clinging to my hands. My joints ache from the night. Not from age, no. From the weight of witnessing history rise in front of me and realizing that the child Samantha tried so hard to protect was destined for far more than survival. Mira is a Great Wolf, the kind of wolf elders whisper about, whose birth rewrites the balance of power.”

Fire needs stone, pup—she’s yours, crush them! Lila trailed, chestnut ponytail tucked under a hood, hazel eyes wide, clutching a parchment map, charcoal stick trembling, courage flickering—the camp’s blood, Milo’s cry haunted her. Her tunic was dusted with snow, steps light, the iron scent a shadow on her spark. Spark, her wolf, yipped softly, vibrant but strained, tail drooping. You’re their star, Lila—map, shine, fight!

Nigel rubbed her cheek and Miranda leaned into Nigel’s touch. But what the two didn’t realize was the angry she-wolf that was sitting inches from them. Her anger soared when she saw her chosen mate rubbing on another woman. Her canines grew out of place and so did her talons. Eliza’s wolf Delilah was raging inside her head, wanting to be set free so she could rip into the pretty blonde girl. Her eyes changed from blue to a shade of deep, dark and terrifying red, like the fires of the pits of hell.

"Nothing you don't want to happen." He leaned up and looked into her eyes and saw a small twinkle. Before he could do anything else, she climbed out from under him and kept walking. He shook his head and followed and out of the jungle, stood a large house. It was three floors with porches wrapped on each one. Solid white with swings in the front and a few dogs laying near the door. She walked up and they barked and wagged when they saw her. When they saw him, all three wolves growled in his direction. They took a few steps forward and she whistled and they returned to laying down. She waved for him to come on and they walked inside. Inside, it looked like an English estate. She walked in and

She really wanted to come but I told her to stay home to rest up for the fight. The wolves that have stayed behind are all warriors. It is time to amp up security and training. I walk towards the training field and see about one hundred fifty wolves. “Thank you for all being here. We will be under attack in a few days. I have brought some witches here for you to practice against.” I say waving my hand over to Stella’s family. “Okay let us get started. Everyone line up!” I yell. Spell’s start flying and wolves start shifting. This is very hard, but necessary. By the end of the day the wolves and the witches are battered and bruised but alive. I look around and I am really proud of my men.

- I don't know why I felt in my heart that my mother wanted to say more than she did. This wasn't the first time in my life, but since my father died this has gotten worse. - Mom? You didn't even seem too shocked by the location of the guy's house! - It's just that you finally have your breakfast Beck! We're leaving in thirty minutes to fix our hair for tonight. My mother didn't like to answer questions. I was used to it enough by then, so I didn't question anything anymore. I didn't question my father's obsession with wolf artifacts and legends, I didn't question why she wore a protective necklace against something that only existed in my books.

He rips his shirt off and fur sprouts out everywhere and his blue eyes turn into an orange-yellow amber color. He howls at the moon and his fur stands out in all directions. I gasp at how tall he has become, he is both terrifying and beautiful to behold, like a wonderful statue. A rock by my feet falls and the sound causes Aiden's werewolf ears to go flat and he sniffs the air. He finds me within seconds and scratches my arms. He holds my body above the ocean cliffs.

A howl with a purpose. A quarter of the warriors followed and shifted, the sound of bones breaking and skin tearing serving as the music as the sun started to set. The battle willl stretch ‘til night. In place of the men were wolves, all mighty and ferocious. Fierce slit eyes, a magnificent mane of fur, and razor sharp nails digging the soil. The wolves sat and it was the others’ cue to climb onto them. Atleast four men could ride one wolf. Another howl came from Flavian, and altogether, the wolves huffed and took a leap. In the blink of an eye, all that was left of them were dust from the utter speed.

It is listening. Behind us, branches snap. One of the werewolves, Dax, and the female mercenary, Liora, are arguing about direction. Therin’s voice joins in, smooth and mocking. Elyra glides ahead, muttering something that might be a spell. The she-wolf, Renna, keeps close to the witch’s shadow, and the older wolf, Corran, trails her protectively. The rest scatter into fog. “Just a tip,” the Herald’s voice booms from nowhere. “The forest feeds on loneliness!”

Something inside me tells me this is my mate coming. I stand up and walk towards the sounds and stop in front of the bottom of the waterfall as a massive stark black wolf with bright yellow eyes walks out from the trees and stops dead in his tracks when he sees me. Our eyes lock and Sienna, my wolf, begins shouting, ‘MATE! MATE! MATE!’. “Mate,” I say almost under my breath in shock.