The Simple Wild Series Novels & Stories

However, we are wild beings, with an insane hunger and need for freedom, it is imposible to cage us, we are the definition of wild, trying to supress our wolves has never ended well for us, It could be like a split personality, the wolf in us, it takes time to merge, it gets harder and painful if we try to supress it, and unlike myths, we do not need to kill to activate it, because contrary to popular belief, it is not a curse, but a gift, a blessing. "Hi," I hear, and turn my gaze to the person, I see a young woman. "Hello." I smile at her, her eyes widening. "Hi," She smiles, then chuckles with embarassment at her repetition, I just stare at her with renewed interest, waiting as she ges he

Patricia raised her voice again. “Damn it with you!” Valeria got up. “Get the hell out of here now!” “But-” “Now!” ******* In the middle of the forest, where they were sure that the fire wouldn't reach them, Marcos and Erika sat, relying on a tree. They were tired, the entire morning and part of the day had walked and walked. They could still hear screams and the people who had arrived to put up the fire. “Marcos, please, we need to continue.” Erika begged.

Smiling softly at the strength that the woman was trying to lend her. It made her heart beat faster; she was beginning to have feelings for the wolf. Candy didn’t look like she would be the affectionate type to Annie, with her wild pink streaked blue hair. Her arms were bare in the tank top she had on, showing arms that were muscular from beating away at her drums. Her shorts didn’t do much to cover up legs that were toned and strong from hours spent running.

Startled, I get up from the bed and move toward the window, pulling back the curtain with trembling hands. Outside, under the moonlit sky, a large black wolf stands in the clearing. Its silhouette is striking against the silver light, casting a long shadow on the grass. The wolf’s eyes glow a deep, intense blue as it lifts its head and howls again, a sound that seems to resonate with the very essence of the night.

He backed off slightly and looked down at me, enjoying seeing me panic. "Why are you so anxious?" he asked, his eyes glinting darkly as his gaze swept over me once more. I tried my best to curl up into a fetal position, but I couldn't move my limbs at all. They felt like they had all frozen in place, and no amount of struggling would work. "Stop fighting it," Jared said, looking at me with fake pity. "It's going to be even harder for you if you accidentally trigger the Punishment Mode." I didn't want to know what that meant, and I certainly didn't want to try to understand the playful glint in Jared's eyes.

But there were no words, no shortcuts—just time and hope. Jake was struggling too. He buried himself in school and robotics club, anything to stay busy. “I’m fine,” he kept saying. But I saw the exhaustion, the hollow eyes. Sixteen, grieving, and lost. We were all breaking. Just at different speeds. Thursday, Roberto Martinez called. “Alex, remember that landscaping association? They want you for all sixty-three member companies.” Sixty-three clients. That would push us past three hundred thousand monthly revenue. “That’s too many,” I said.

Ogimaa Binesi called and texted several times and I ignored him a little. I searched for Eric West online. I got a lot of people, but not him. It's a popular name. The guy intrigued me. I won't lie. Buzz buzz buzz 6:15 Alarm. Rise and shine... Today is the beginning of Spirit Week. I'm going for blue. Like the colour of our teams. The Vikings. White regular fit jeans. Royal blue blouse and coat. White ankle heels boots and tote bag. Wavy Beach hair and the make-up as natural as it gets.

I wanted to prove I could stand on my own. So when the opportunity came, I didn’t hesitate. Last year, my best friend Casper Peralta approached me with the idea for BARBOOM. A high-end bar. A brand. A statement. Something bold and unapologetic, something that would carve my name into the city in neon lights instead of footnotes. I threw myself into it completely, planning every detail, memorizing figures, pitching relentlessly, wearing my parents down little by little until they finally agreed to back me.

Stylish without trying too hard. A mini wooden platform was positioned near the pool area, decorated with soft beige drapes tied at the corners and flanked by two standing speakers. A minimalist banner that read "Ivan Turns 18" hung above it in gold script. Off to one corner was a karaoke machine with two wireless microphones and a monitor displaying a paused karaoke screen—because apparently, no Filipino party is complete without a little singing.

“There’s a cop been sitting out there lately, handing out tickets like he’s getting paid per fine.” “Guess he’ll have to catch me first,” she said lightly. The low rumble of engines cut through the air before she could say anything else. It wasn’t one bike. It was many. The sound rolled in like distant thunder, growing louder as it approached, until it filled the space outside. Vivian grimaced. “Well,” she said, reaching for a glass. “Looks like we’re about to get busy. Road Wolves are back.” “How many?” Rose asked. Vivian leaned to peek out the window.