The Millennium Wolves Novels & Stories

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.’

Tears pooled in my eyes. Ariston hesitated before giving me a response. “I’m sorry, but there is something else you need to know.” I could feel dread climbing my spine. “What is it?” He looked at me, “Once, in every millennium,” he began slowly, “two children are born, one male, one female, each carrying a wolf unlike anything the rest of us possess. We call them the "Millennials Wolves.” I blinked. “Two?” And he nodded. “Always a pair. A balance of power. A male… and a female… each born with an Unbound Wolf.”

When my ancestors settled here and began to build their pack of wolves, they named the pack after the birds that had already made their homes in these parts. Those beautiful, winged creatures hadn’t been seen in decades. Along with the war and the destruction of the atmosphere, wildlife began to disappear. Either migrating or dying off. As a little girl, my mother used to tell me that one day the Ravens would return to these parts. When the true Alpha of wolves walked amongst us. That the land would flourish and werefolk would begin to find their mates again. Maybe someday my mother's stories will come true, and the Ravens will return. I skip down the last step and round the corner landing o

He loved coming to the casino, not to gamble, the supply of liquor, always managed to put a smile on his face. Wolves who had an issue with shifting or who haven’t found their mate, tended to drink. Sex wasn’t good enough for them because the only women they could fuck were humans, and their holes were too small to accommodate our fat cocks. Frustrated to the point of madness was not an understatement. No, we needed mates. For some reason their holes were bigger and could satisfy us completely. Yet, Winter never had this issue. In some ways he was the perfect one out of us three.

"Your soul belongs here. We have been guiding you since the day you were born. It is time." "Time for what?" I shifted my weight to test the ground. The blood held my boots like something thickened past moving, refusing to release. "Time to kill the Millennium Wolf," the voice said. "The bloodline that can unlock the abyss of the underworld." The words landed in my chest and sat there without moving.

"Where exactly are you and your mom from?" I stopped chewing as my mother’s warning flashed through my mind. "We're from the Poshta Pack," I said, trying to sound certain. "Oh, I should have known," Millie retorted, a sudden look of understanding crossing her face. "Why should you have known?" I asked, curious. Millie instantly looked apologetic, as if she hadn't meant to speak aloud. "I've just heard stories that the wolves of that pack keep themselves entirely isolated from the modern world, choosing to live more like their animal forms than humans. I'm sorry if I offended you."

The extensive tour of the pack grounds proved to be surprisingly informative. Uncle Marco, with his exuberant personality, led the way, while Cree offered quiet, insightful elaborations. The training grounds were particularly impressive, with warriors organized into specialized groups. The "Donated" wolves, those with magical aptitudes, were divided into four subcategories: ignis (fire), glacies (ice), terra (earth), and caeli (air). Those less magically inclined formed the Bellator combat group, leveraging their speed and strength. The presence of hybrid trainers for the magically gifted wolves was a unique and impactful addition.

"I am trying to think of the best way to say this...you are home." "What?" Clara felt her nerves rise. "You're a member of the pack, we all live here. Let me give you a tour." He started towards her and Clara raised her arms, taking a step back. "Live here? Where is here? Who is this pack?" "We're in the mountains, about fifty miles outside of Laramie, no other town is closer. The pack is all wolves, we live and work together, and are for the most part self-sufficient. We are a larger pack, numbering eighty-two now that you've joined us."

The Resonants stopped, their natural human instincts fighting a sudden, terrifying spike of adrenaline. Killian stepped forward, pushing the massive gates open with a single, effortless thrust of his arm. The courtyard was a sea of slate-grey fur and silver-veined quartz armor. Five hundred massive wolves stirred from their slumber, shaking the morning dew from their heavy coats. The sound of their armored plates grinding together was deafening. They rose to their paws, their violet eyes locking onto the crowd of strangers standing at the threshold of their sanctuary.

They knelt down and pushed my sweat laced raven hair away from my face, their eyes open and kind. “Hello.” The one with brown eyes and rainbow hair said sweetly, his tone low and soft. “Hello.” I responded nervously, watching him for any sign of aggression. “Why are you laid on the ground?” The second wolf asked me, his blue eyes curious and yet humorous. I sighed, knowing that I should think before I speak, not all tribes were friendly to strangers. “I tripped and I am unable to get back up, I was in the glass tubes for days without food or water.”