The Wilder Women Novels & Stories

I’m just waiting for the day the Senior wolves finally visit us. The Senior Wolves—sacred and powerful, like walking legends. They’re not just ordinary werewolves; they’re sacred souls, second only to the Moon Goddess. Immortal. They were the ones who crowned me as King, and they’re the ones who will announce Aderyn as Queen. But even though I’ve found my mate, they haven’t shown up yet. What’s keeping them? I’ve decided that the day they arrive for the Queen’s announcement, I’ll reject Aderyn. I’ll give them a good reason. I just hope they’ll understand.

“Your grandmother survived worse. Your grandfather survived being murdered. I can survive this too.” Emma’s tiny heartbeat pressed against mine, steady and sure. In that quiet moment, I made a promise—to Mom, to myself, to the universe. I would survive this. Not for me. For Emma. For Jake. For Mom’s memory. Because that’s what Collins women did. We endured. We fought. We refused to quit even when breathing felt impossible. Even when living felt like drowning. Even when the darkness seemed endless. We survived. Because that’s all we knew how to do.

"You claim control over your wolf. You claim strength as a warrior. Then prove it. Resist what I place before you." His words were followed by the sound of footsteps, soft, measured, and many. From the shadowed side of the clearing, figures appeared, women. Dozens of them. Each one beautiful, some unfamiliar, others shockingly known. Their scent filled the air, wild, sweet, and intoxicating. The mountain's mist clung to them like silk, their steps soundless. And among them. I froze as u saw her. They were all omegas, alluring and tempting. Regina walks among them.

This was my moment to find my next move. I trotted along the path through the wild forest, the sky a mix of reds, oranges, and yellows from the setting sun. I needed to find somewhere to hunker down for the night soon. Exhaustion was setting in, and it wouldn't be wise to fall asleep out in the open. Females didn't fare well in rogue territory. I had heard far too many stories of females being raped and murdered among the rogues. They did not treasure them because they didn't care about heirs or anything like that. Their beasts controlled them more than men, and time without a pack caused them to forget all the morals and values a man would have demanded if he were in control.

“Darling, you’re a multifaceted woman—your beauty, your body, your wit, your career. Is there anything specific you want to prioritize?” Nita sank back into the sofa, the leather creaking under her weight. “I want more than just sex. Don’t get me wrong, sex is great.” Mrs. Wilder snorted, her eyes sparkling with mischief, a dimple appearing as she smirked. She looked even younger when she smiled. “Sex is incredible when it’s done right—especially with an alpha who can make your legs quiver.” Nita choked on her cookie, chocolate crumbs spraying as she coughed. Grabbing a napkin, she cleared her throat. Mrs. Wilder was wild.

“I can’t wait for things to unfold in this mansion… leaving many people vulnerable—so I can break every single one of them.” The thought tasted sweet. “Let’s go, girls,” she said casually, flashing them a smile as if nothing had happened. The three of them slipped into the crowd, disappearing into the swirl of gowns and music. Across the room, Riley stood with Skylar and Quinn, chatting quietly. Then the lights dimmed, and an announcer stepped onto the stage, his voice booming through the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the welcome party of our new Wild Cat!” Skylar let out an excited squeal, shaking Riley by the arm. Riley blinked, caught between surprise and mild panic, as the

“Come on, Erika, you can make things right. The painter is asking you to hold the bottle of wine.” Erika went nervous. She gave it a try again while the painter focused on the woman whose glass of wine was kept up by an invisible thread. That day Valeria was dressed with a long sleeve blouse and a long skirt that adapted pretty well to her silhouette, with black boots and jewelry. She had hired the best painter in the City of the country and had paid even more for him to travel to that town just to paint that woman. A hand in her waist and the glass of wine in her right hand. “How long is it going to be?” The woman asked.

Behind her, beyond the doorframe, and lingering in her shadows were the other women I had seen before I’d lost consciousness. Rogues. Her rogues. They were a swarm of women, each with the same wild, hungry look. They didn’t speak, just watched, mute and observant. “Let me out of here, Emma,” I snarled. She pouted. “Why would I do that? We just finally reconnected.” She took another step closer. “Don’t you want to finish what we started in the woods?”

They split up when there was a siren, each going their separate ways. The camera panned to the group of hunters, who appeared to be waiting for their turn. A few minutes later, their siren sounded, and they took off after the four women. It was impossible to deny the show was about men who hunted women like prey, with the intent of doing whatever they wanted to them if they caught them. It appeared to be consensual, but it was shocking. I watched for the next twenty minutes as each of the women were pursued, falling one by one. Only a tenacious black girl seemed to be giving them a run for their money. The other three had been captured and taken to cottages.

Sitting straight, he waited for whoever made the noise to be appeared. “Move! You dimwit.” A blue-dressed woman pushed another woman whose head covered with fabric bag. Staring down, Lucas counted there were over dozen women, he knew some of them, talked to them sometimes. Could guess why they’re here too. “Wait…” Said the green-dressed woman. “I think this is far enough. I don’t want to go on any deeper. We don’t know what kind of wild animal live in here.” Her objection got full support from the other women. While the covered head woman kept quiet.