Werewolf Free Novels & Stories

The usurpers didn't need to command loyalty; they merely needed to ensure that the packs were too busy fighting amongst themselves to ever consider uniting against them. Propaganda, too, played a crucial role. Pamphlets, crudely printed but widely distributed in werewolf settlements, depicted Queen Elara and her lineage as weak, decadent, and ultimately responsible for the kingdom’s current instability. They were painted as creatures of human sentimentality, incapable of understanding the primal needs and fierce independence of the werewolf people. One particularly vicious pamphlet featured a crude caricature of Elara, her eyes wide and vacant, surrounded by images of chaos and famine, with

He stands up and howls in front of wolf Soga’s dead body. In the epic clash between Gale and the Betas against the werewolves and ogres, it was clear that victory was within reach for the combined allied forces. With a stroke of strategic brilliance, the witches unleashed their formidable powers, tipping the scales even further in favor of Gale and his allies. Sensing defeat, the vampires wisely retreated from the battle, recognizing that they stood no chance against this overwhelming force.

I had to be in the Freeland because this was not a territory that I recognized. The Freeland was a place where rogues could be rogues without suffering consequences, lone wolves appeared to thrive here, and often you could find a witch or even a vampire lurking about. I shuttered, how I hated vampires, and I wasn’t overly keen on witches. Evil nasty beings with no purpose to this world but causing harm and chaos to others, the vamps particularly. Many of the Alpha’s felt that the Freeland should not be allowed in civilized werewolf society, however the council protected them stating that all supernatural were allotted a safe haven.

They all raise their hands up and I smile in satisfaction. “Perfect! So, what you have to pay for your freedom, will be 50 werewolf soldiers. You know, the battle cost me a lot of very powerful and loyal soldiers and I know they can never be replaced, but I would still want some people to fill that gap, that’s why I’m demanding for 50 werewolf soldiers from the West Wing Pack” I explain and I see a hand show from the crowd. “Yes, speak up” I instruct and the man who seems to be in his late forties rises with a gloomy expression.

Unfortunately, It's apparent that during my summer vacation, I will live in the very place that has impacted my life more than words could fathom alone. The dream... the reality of what occurred one fateful night many years ago is bound to become a reality again, but there is nothing I can do besides cross my fingers and hope for the best. Hoping that night was really a dream, after all. The night where it all began. The night when I was attacked by a monster... The night I was attacked by a man shifting werewolf. With my legs snuggled against my chest and arms wrapped around them securely, I yawn for a bit then tilt my body closer to the window, wincing at the slight pinch of pain that pull

Roger transforms into a werewolf and roars into Aiden's face. "Hold on, to get to me you need to go through them first, do you know what you're fighting for?" Roger gets more frustrated and rushes at Aiden but another werewolf jumps in between them and digs his claws into Roger's sides. Roger digs his teeth into the Wewolf's shoulder and rips at the flesh. The unknown werewolf lifts Roger up and tosses him across the room. Two werewolves stare each other down while the other wolves howl with excitement at the prospect of lots of blood being spilled. Aiden is still in his human form and calls out at Roger, "Welcome to Werewolf Fightclub Roger, tonight you are fighting for a wonderful prize, J

Someone behind the counter turned up the volume on the TV, and the calm voice of a news reporter came blasting through the speakers. "Two weeks ago, the Alpha of the Lunar Dusk pack declared Drax Freling a fugitive for crimes against the entire werewolf species. Miss Rissa and Miss Lily, whose photographs also appear below, have also been declared wanted, dead or alive, for aiding and supporting the fugitive."

Avalea Aldrich stepped out after ordering me to get out of my bloody clothes. The man’s moods are unpredictable. One minute he's so kind, so warm, and the next minute, he’s gruff. I want to think it’s because of the beast inside him, but I know that’s not the reason. After spending merely a few hours with Aldrich, I know with an unshakable certainty that Werewolves are not the wild, dangerous monsters we’ve believed them to be.

The scar-faced werewolf is standing still in place, fangs millimeters away from breaking the skin on Princess Sylvia’s neck. He’s completely, utterly frozen.

Fuck it here's goes nothing. I AM A WEREWOLF!!!