The Wolf Of The North Novels & Stories

Their leader is a black wolf with blue eyes, and he wants to stand on the high cliff and declare war on his opponent. The Red Wolve did not dare to stop but only dared to lean to the side. Wolves usually have gray and yellow fur, but with wolves having white, black, and red fur is very special. The black wolf that received the order to distract Windy was just a wolf with yellow fur because to distract the opponent, he disguised himself to look like Ezra.

alpha Rowan says, he looked ruffed up, he had a big bite over his neck, and my eyes kept going back to that point on his neck. The two alphas sat next to each other on one side and I sat on the opposite one, I kept avoiding their eyes, worried that I won't be in trouble now. "Have you ever heard about white wolves?" alpha Aiden asks me and I shake my head no. "Verbal answers please," alpha Rowan order me. "Okay, haven't heard," I say in a mumbling voice. "White wolves are the rarest wolves out there, some people don't believe they exist, do you know how many there are out in the world?" alpha Aiden asks me and I shake my head no.

As she looked across the clearing it was filled with wolves, black, brown, grey, sable, and one lone white wolf. He was immense and stood on the precipice, watching those below. A black wolf that was just as big approached and stood by his side. They exchanged glances and looked in her direction. She had to side step to avoid being bowled over by the gigantic black panther that barreled past her on her way to the top of the bluff. She rubbed her body along the side of the white wolf. She purred as he licked her head.

My eyes widened in disbelief as my mouth dropped open, "hellhounds!? Like the ones that were created by Hades? God of the Underworld?" Axil nodded gravely, his eyes flashing with pain briefly before he willed it away. I've read this in an old history book when I was about nine years old, I think. Wolves were basically the living version of a hellhound. When a wolf dies, their soul is sent to the underworld. Hades saw the potential in their souls and created his own version, which he called hellhounds.

Two of the elders were laughing so hard one of them had to hold the table. They got the silver one up between them and out through the back, and he went on his own feet, badly, leaning on the men either side of him. The brindled wolf prowled the edge of the cleared floor, bristling, blowing through a jawful of bloody teeth, and nobody went near him until he had settled. "That was something else," the man said behind me, quiet under all of it. "You can feel it in your bones. The strength of it. That's the North, right there. You just watched the North."

He loomed mercilessly above them like a giant, his dark purple eyes glowing like lanterns filled with bloodlust. The men froze for a split second. Yes. This was the man known to all as the Greatest Alpha of the North. The leader roared. “Lunge!” The first wolf charged forward, claws digging into the gravel, ready to tear into steel and flesh alike. Tonight, it wasn’t about intimidation. It was about blood. The man growled low, the sound vibrating through the earth. When the first gamma wolf lunged, he met it head-on. Claws clashed. Teeth tore. The clearing erupted in chaos as bodies slammed against the ground, gravel and dirt scattering with every strike.

as he quickly stepped back raising his hands in defense. “I didn't get to change you myself, although I wanted to but I had the pack nurse do it I promise.” “What did you mean by you have warriors chasing after them?” Zayn exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “This might be hard to understand for now, but… I am a wolf, the alpha of the Shadowcrest pack and you my dear are my fated mate. I have waited my whole life for you.” He paused, his eyes scanning my face for any sign of understanding.

"You can guard my flank in the timber, or you can watch my back from the parapet. But you will not keep me in the dark. Pack the sleds." ​The northern wastes are a vast, white desert where the sky and the snow bleed into a single, blinding grey horizon. ​The wind howls through the frozen valleys, carrying the bitter, chemical stench of the acoustic weaponry long before we find the trail. We move in a tight, aggressive formation—myself and Clyde at the head of a fifty-wolf hunting party, our paws and boots breaking the pristine crust of the snow. Clyde has refused to leave my side, his obsidian wolf-spirit pacing just beneath his skin, a constant, silent threat wrapped in the smell of winter

851 AD The first snow of the winter was building on the horizon, casting out its tendrils of freezing winds to clear the way. Harvest was well and truly over and the men had returned from their hunting trips to now help with the final touches in securing the Pack's dens for the winter. The season could be cruel here but the wolves had learnt how to fare against the harsh conditions without the aid of the human settlement some fifteen kilometres to the south. But that was because the Northern Star pack had something that other packs didn't; their Luna was a witch.

King Harvey sits up at the speed of light and grabs the wolf by the neck and squeezes. The wolf whimpers and whines as King Harvey’s talons slice into his neck and rip out his throat. Blood drips down his hand and the front of the wolf’s artic white chest. With a final whimper, King Harvey tosses the corpse out my nearby window and wipes his hand on his cloak. “K-King Harvey?” “I must believe that this wolf was one from the North, a spy. Only wolves from the North can transform from a pup to a full wolf and its fur. Both are their signatures. I can’t believe I fell for it.”