The Owl House Boscha Novels & Stories

"Maybe they were close?" Owl's expression turned into a suspicious one. "Yvonne is hiding something from us." Asty looked at him. "What do you mean?" "Nothing." Owl pretended a laugh and poked the young woman's nose. "What are you doing this early outside?" he changes the topic. "I was just walking around." "Where's Chaol?" "He told me that he was gonna rest." "I see." Asty curiously looked at Owl. "By the way, Mr. Owl, how are you able to withstand the Sun?"

Otsana paced back and forth in the dimly lit room, her mind racing with worry and uncertainty. She knew that time was running out, and she needed to talk to Boris about their future in the village. They couldn't keep their secret hidden forever, not when they were werewolves. The moon's pull grew stronger with each passing day, and the desire to embrace their true nature threatened to consume them both. As she contemplated their predicament, the sound of a familiar knock echoed through the room. Otsana's heart skipped a beat as she rushed to open the door, revealing Boris standing there, his eyes filled with both determination and affection.

Oliver trailed. I used my mind link to order my betas to evacuate everyone in the Pack House immediately and requested backup in the dungeon. Another cry of pain sounded. It was Hunter. He was shifting. “I’m going to rip you all to shreds!” Bowen said in a disembodied voice. “I’m going to save the best for last Ezra. My master wants you for himself.”

We walked into the pack house hand in hand. Today, the pack house is unusually clean. I can only smell flowers and food, not sweat. There's no one inside of the house. Eaton walked us to the backyard again and I could already see the crowd. Everybody is waiting there. The hugeeee backyard is almost full with people. Not everyday that normal werewolves get invited into the pack house. I mean, it's so crowded that I think maybe it's the whole pack right here.

The house now resembled a battlefield, with broken furniture strewn about, adding to the chaotic scene. Entering the room, Anita found Father Bosco standing defiantly. She chuckled, "You are indeed stubborn, aren't you? I am willing to spare your life. All I require is the source of the power you wield against witches and how you obtained it." He smiled, hands concealed behind his back. "Really? Is that all you seek?" "I'm certain you don't wish to meet your end, Father Bosco. Trust me, it's not worth it," she warned. He laughed, causing Anita to tilt her head in amazement, pondering how he could find amusement in such dire circumstances.

Warlord leans on the back of the leather car seat, cross his leg and his hand-made shoes shine in the sun. Jack thought his boss was interested in Jane and said, "although this girl is more beautiful, fashionable and lively than Mrs Owl, the old man has recognized Mrs.Owl as his grand daughter-in-law after all. Boss, you can't..." Before he finished, Jack was shivered by the man's gaze as sharp as knife.

Yet, this same land he swore to protect had gulped his blood and those of his household. Tapping the snuff box angrily, Bozo yanked the coverlid open but hissed when the wooden end of the object suddenly snapped in his fingers. Everything would have been perfect if only Maduka had listened to him and followed his plans. None of this would have happened. None. “You, over there,” Kachi pointed, “keep a sharp eye. I wouldn’t want any surprises” He patted his male ostrich and the animal ambled towards Bozo. “Any report?” Bozo said, scooping the snuff with his index finger without looking at the captain.

Then, out of the thick mountain mists swirling above the western canyons, a silent, ghostly shape materialized. It was a magnificent white barn owl, her feathers so completely colorless they practically glowed against the dark stone of the fortress. She glided without making a single sound, her massive wings sweeping through the air with a chilling, effortless grace before she descended onto the heavy leather-braced forearm Maeve held out. As the owl settled, her head smoothly rotated, locking her gaze directly onto Rebecca. Her eyes were not the typical dark obsidian of her species; they were a piercing, luminous crystal-blue, gleaming with a terrifying, ancient intelligence that felt entir

His aura of dominance radiated once more, filling the cramped apartment room. ​"I am a werewolf. Not just a regular wolf, but an Alpha. And what you did last night was a massive insult and a highly inappropriate act." ​Nichole fell silent for a moment. She stared at her boss's face—handsome and fierce, yet now looking so convincing in his delusion. ​Instead of arguing or panicking again, Nichole actually smiled even wider. An understanding smile she often gave her five-year-old nephew when the boy claimed to be a superhero.

Putting out the fire, they easily invaded the territory of the werewolves. “Stay alert!” Deyanira warned. A howl from afar caught her attention. The House was easily seen from where they stood, as it was erected into a small hill. And what she saw on top of it sent shivers down her spine. The large silhouette of a werewolf standing in its two feet, his physique shrouded by darkness with the moonlight perfectly shining down on him. He was hunched back, but it only accentuated his fearsome silhouette. He howled to the moon, and that was when she realized he was the owner of the spine-chilling howl. They had been expecting them.