Werewolf Books For Adults Novels & Stories

Was someone trying to tell me something? I picked up the opened book and studied the page. It was written by a woman in Australia who claimed to have been in contact with a pack of werewolves who’d allowed her to study them. I remembered how a good deal of it had sounded so farfetched that I’d closed the book with disdain. Now, after having dealt with and dissected one of those vile creatures, I re-read the pages with more interest and a far more opened mind. After leaning against my desk and reading a few more pages, I decided to pick up the rest of the mess that was caused by Max and my little sex tryst and then take the book upstairs with me. I was craving a sandwich and a glass of wi

she continued. I didn’t wait for further directions and headed that way. Sara was right. The library was crammed with books so rare that I didn’t even think they existed. I ran my fingers over them and stopped at the supernatural section. Werewolves. The variety of these books was astonishing. A Hidden History or Under the Full Moon. But the one that caught my attention was The Grim Howl.

He drinks beer while sharing stories with his friends. Vesper made her way to the second-floor library area. She stared at the mountain of books in front of her. Then she moves her way to the history section, where she pulls out a book titled: Wolves 1900. It shows a summary of the life of werewolves in the 1900s and how they protected themselves against the blood hunters. She got another book titled “Vanishing Wolf, a Memoir” Her eyes start to widen as she reads the book.

I am Catherine Brooks, mate to Arthur Brooks, the lone surviving witch-wolf. For centuries, I have loved a werewolf of unparalleled strength and unwavering determination to protect our pack, regardless of the cost. The loss of our first daughter, Aliyah, in the great war devastated me. She was brave, beautiful, and fiercely strong, yet she never returned from her final battle against our enemies—the vampires and the black witches who betrayed us.

They had been givin a bad reputation of being murderous beast, thanks to the humans who told such horrible lies. These werewolves were the descendants of the moon. A better way of explaining it would be that the moon was their own version of God. She was the one who created the werewolf breed herself. She was or is the Moon Goddess. It was said that she gave them a very special gift, the ability to feel or sense who their true mate is. Its called the mate bond which is avery strong feeling that either one would beable to feel when they are close to one another. Like what a soul mate would be for humans. The wolf people had many tribes or packs, as they were called. Each pack would have a mal

He told her. “Downworlder hunter.” She corrected him. “I’m not just a vampire hunter, I also hunt werewolves but sure, I’ll just change clothes.” Cassadie agreed as she decided to wear her yesterday’s clothes. “Should I buy you new clothes?” Yomiel asked as he went on wearing his usual suit. “Nah, no need. We can wear this for a week.” Cassadie told him. “Eh, what about the underwear?” He wondered as he tilted his head as he looked at her.

The golden pup’s fur began to crack with glowing lines, radiating a blinding light that made it impossible for anyone to keep their eyes open. “A true Golden Werewolf! I can’t see!” “It’s coming! It’s coming!” Everyone craned their necks and kept their eyes wide, trying desperately to catch a glimpse. Damian laughed loudly. “A Divine Werewolf descends! All shall bow before me! I am the King of the Werewolf Alliance!” As the light began to dim, the pup’s form started to shift. The crowd held its breath. “What is that?” “A black werewolf?” At the very moment everyone expected glory, the golden pup transformed into a grotesque, malformed Omega Black Werewolf.

It is too soon! Admittedly, Tatyana was far more familiar with the ways of a vampire, even if the ones she’d lived amongst were mutants. She’d listened to enough conversations and snuck enough books out of Wadim’s library to read in the recesses of the den when no one was around to make her a fairly proficient resource where vampires were concerned. The werewolf, which was also known as the lycanthrope, or lycan for short, was something she knew very little about. Now, she was locked in a motel room on the outskirts of Middletown, New York with a man whose human side hadn’t yet allowed the lycan side to take complete control, but it was a daily battle with him as the cycle of the moon prog

Three years ago, I'd had a chance to go back. The Witch had drawn my blood, cast a spell, and opened a portal to the real world. "Walk through and you'll be home. Go on — you never belonged here to begin with." In those early days, the terror of waking up in a strange world had kept me up night after night. Back then, I would have done anything to go home. But five years in the werewolf world had changed me. I'd built a life here. I'd found people who mattered.

In this world of werewolves, no one knew I was human, except Ryan. I never thought of myself as particularly clever. In the werewolf world, survival meant staying out of trouble and keeping a low profile. I never pushed my luck or tried to force human logic onto werewolf politics, customs, culture, or anything else. So, for all these years, I played my part as the gentle, well-mannered daughter of the Bloodmoon pack's Beta while quietly searching for a way back to the human world. But five years had passed, and I was still stuck here. Even after turning 18, when I awakened my wolf and the Moon Goddess assigned me a fated mate, nothing changed.