The Originals Werewolf Novels & Stories

change. It was a grotesque, beautiful horror. Bones snapped and elongated. Skin rippled as fur retreated into pores. In a matter of seconds, three naked, panting men stood in the dirt, their bodies covered in scars and fresh, bleeding gashes. "He’s losing his grip, boys," one of the men spat, wiping blood from his mouth. "An Alpha who can't control his hunger for a human girl is a liability." The black wolf—Zayden—didn't shift. He stood his ground, a low, earth-shaking growl vibrating through his massive chest. His golden eyes locked onto the men, a silent promise of death.

Whispers of a hybrid heir had reached the traditionalists, the old guard who'd kill to preserve their vision of werewolf purity The game had begun, and the stakes were blood deep "I'm listening," I said quietly "Not over the phone. Tomorrow night. The Waldorf penthouse. Come alone." The line went dead I looked at Lucian, who'd heard every word thanks to werewolf hearing "Well, brother," he said grimly, "looks like your son just became the most dangerous three-year-old in America." And I realized with crystal clarity that everything had changed I'd never wanted to be a father, but now with Alex and Lora in the crosshairs of werewolf politics, I knew one thing with absolute certainty.

" he asks firmly. "I don't know, I just got out," I try to explain but he is not having it. He grabs me by the collar of Alanis's T shirt and pulls me until we are out of the house and in front of Alby Crix's house. Alby is the oldest wolf in out pack and he is the wisest. He has all the answers. Werewolves get old, we can live for 1000 years or more but at a point we start ageing. Which almost makes us like humans.

"Elara, what you did yesterday — shifting into wolf form — that hasn't happened in over a thousand years." "Omegas don't shift," I said. "Everyone knows that." "Omegas with ordinary blood don't shift. But you don't have ordinary blood." She leaned forward. "The First Ones were the original wolves. The ones who came before the packs. Before the hierarchy. Before Alphas and Betas and Omegas." "What were they, then?" "Everything. Every wolf in the First Ones pack could shift. Every wolf could lead. Every wolf could fight. The distinctions — Alpha, Beta, Omega — those came later. When the blood diluted."

He know what everyone were thinking, they were just afraid and at the same time angry. It has been approximately three decades ago. A war between Werewolf and Vampire has occurred, an era full of killing and bloodlust. One day around that time, their pack was fending off an attack from the vampire king that was on a rampage. The Alpha at that time was Alpha Broderick’s father. Leading the forefront and killing vampires like a machine without suffering any injury. It was an easy fight, but not until a tragedy happened.

He immediately finds the cameras on the third floor. He is now looking at Accalia who's walking carefully but something caught his attention. "Accalia! The werewolf is in the wall!" he said while panicking. After what her uncle said Accalia immediately look at her upper part. The werewolf smirk as he gets down to the wall. His form is a big human-wolf with a fur of a wolf that is colored black and gray. He shows his teeth as if he was ready to bite Accalia and his saliva is dripping as if he that a delicious meal is right in his front.

"Have you ever heard of the Primordial?" A frown makes my forehead crease. "No. No, I don't think so. Why? What about them and what do they have to do with me?" He nods his head slowly. "Good. If you had heard about them, then they weren't discreet enough." He flashed me a small smile before being serious again. "Rumors have it that they were the first werewolves to exist, being direct descendants from the Firsts-" I snorted, interrupting him. "And you believe that crap?"

Trios were allowed to exist again. But right on the heels of that, a group of witches showed up—called the Riding Hoods. Yeah, as in Little Red Riding Hood. Turns out the old story was true. The original Red was killed by a rogue werewolf. Her sister got revenge, then decided her new life mission was killing every werewolf on Earth. She built a cult of twisted followers, and now we’ve got a bunch of mummified witches coming for our throats. We beat them back in America, sent them crawling back to Europe. But they didn’t stay quiet.

“That is the story…and they were all female. They mated with human men, and the first immortal Lycans came into being. To this day, Goddess-born wolves are female. The gene can't be passed on to males.” “What happened to the originals?” Troy shrugged. “No one really knows. One day, they were just gone.” “Then…where do werewolves come from?” “A genetic mutation. The species split off from Lycans thousands of years ago. Our historians and scientists traced their origin all the way back to the bronze age.” “And Lycans?” “The Palaeolithic era at least, maybe even further back.” I really had to work hard to wrap my mind around all the information Troy threw at me. It was a lot, much more than I t