Werewolf Heartsong Novels & Stories

PRESENT "You've got to fix it all, Sevina." Orion, the black crow that had been kept inside Queen Sevina's quarters ever since she set foot on Earthoria, spoke with a voice that only Queen Sevina will hear and understand. He was the spiritual guardian that was sent together with her to make sure Sevina would oblige on the request of the people who summoned her there.

CHAPTER 30 RECOMMENDED SONG: In The Name Of Love By Martin Garrix, Bebe Rexha ~🖤 Damien's wolf growled inside like a frantic beast hearing the mention of someone else's name from Viona's tongue. He didn't know what was the story behind this name but he was envious. He was envious to the extent that he couldn't loiter to accomplish their mating ceremony. His wolf was deeply offended thus yearned to pounce onto her wolf to prove that he was her one and only man in this lifetime.

Richard hesitates, his fist still raised, and I can see the internal battle playing out on his face. That's when Garrett starts laughing, blood pouring from his mouth. "You're all going to die anyway," he slurs. "The Luna of Blood is already here." The Luna of Blood is already here. The words hit me like a physical blow and before I can think, or stop myself, I'm storming forward and shoving Richard out of the way. The alpha is shoved to the side, and he glares at me, but I ignore him, snarlinng at the wolf beneath me.

And he said one word, and his voice was clear and strong, cutting through the psychic static like a bell. "Pay attention." A bright, golden light burst out of him and didn't hit the gray; instead, it went through it. It was a song, the same one I had sung in the Echo-Verse about being whole, but it was better and stronger. It was the Anima Mundi's song, coming through the Bridge's heart. The wolves that were hollow stopped. Their eyes, which were empty, flickered. One of them, a young she-wolf, tripped, and a single tear ran down her cheek, leaving a trail in the dirt.

But for a werewolf whose nervous system had been shattered by a silver cage, that rhythm felt like a hammer against his brain. The remaining Hollow-Men didn't use fire or blades; they used Discordant Chanting. They began to hum a fragmented version of the "Hush," a broken melody designed to trigger the trauma in a werewolf’s mind. "You are broken, little wolf," the mages hissed in unison. "The cage is still inside you. The silver is still in your marrow. Give us the crystal, and we will end the noise."

RECOMMENDED SONG: **Broken Strings By James Morrison, Nelly Furtado** Just the moment, Scarlet heard him, she realized that only Emerald was immune to Wolfsbane. In the blink of an eye, many of the werewolf soldiers were paralyzed and many were dead with amputated heads and legs. Scarlet looked at the pouring clouds,

I paused, the weight of my next words heavy on my tongue. "The hearts of werewolf pups are incredibly powerful. Historically, they were often exploited by malevolent witches to create undetectable drugs that masked their scent. However, I’ve analyzed the drug drain, and it doesn’t resemble the typical concoctions of evil witches; this one is distinctly different." Everything was starting to align—the frequent abductions of children were likely for the purpose of harvesting their hearts. Alpha Dominic and Drew stared at me in disbelief. "Please elaborate," Drew urged. "One crucial aspect of werewolf pups' hearts is that the blood that flows directly from them, when mixed into any drug, effect

Her call is an echo on the wind, a summons to battle that cannot be ignored. Beside her appears a pair of wolves, Aoron and Eta. They connect with the werewolves, seeking compatible partners amidst the pack. Together, they unleash a powerful howl and charge towards the Drider. They attack from all directions, their claws and teeth deadly weapons that tear and rend. Gradually, they manage to break all the Drider's legs, incapacitating it.

I command, my voice cutting clean through the chaos. My warriors obey instantly. They form a protective arc around me, blades flashing, teeth bared. A wolf lunges from the right—one of Keith’s chiefs—and is intercepted before he can reach me. My warrior tears out his throat with efficient brutality. The metallic scent of blood thickens the air. And beneath it— There. A pulse. Deep. Ancient. Calling to me. The Heart. My lycan stirs, her presence coiling through my mind like silver mist. Closer, she whispers, low and hungry. It beats for us.

Its amber eyes glimmered with feral cunning, its body tense, ready to strike. The younger wolves whimpered nervously, some retreating instinctively, others standing stiffly, ready to defend. Selene’s silver threads sprang into motion, weaving subtle protective barriers around the pups. She guided the rogue’s movements, deflecting it just enough to prevent harm without overtly controlling it. Only she could sense the raw, unpredictable energy radiating from the intruder.