Werewolf Heat Mga Nobela at Kwento

"Let go, baby." She shattered, her walls clenching around me, and I felt my knot beginning to form. But it wasn't enough. The heat was still there, still burning through her. There was only one way to truly relieve it. Only by marking her and completing our mating bond could help offset the intense heat. Werewolves only go to heat after finding their mates. It's a natural phenomenon that allows them to mark each other, imprint each others souls. But Katy’s own was triggered by drugs and I was not her fated mate.

I woke up in the middle of the night. The room was pitch black except for the faint blue glow of the flame lamp on the wall. Lily had fallen asleep, slumped against the edge of my bed. Her lashes were still wet with tears, her face tired but unyielding. I stayed perfectly still, careful not to wake her, but my thoughts kept spinning. Everything that had happened lately played over and over in my mind. Clearly, werewolves were way too tough, so killing them was next to impossible. If I wanted to get back to the human world, ordinary suicide methods wouldn't cut it.

A cold wind swept through the clearing, and I felt the chill penetrate to my bones despite my wolf's natural warmth. To my horror, several older unmated wolves actually stepped forward at Axel's invitation, drawn by my family's status despite the humiliating circumstances. Axel guided an older wolf forward—a male at least twenty years I senior with graying fur at his temples and yellowed fangs. He leered at me with undisguised hunger. "The Silverblood daughter looks quite fertile and strong-hipped." Derek and Kai physically pushed me toward him. I recoiled in disgust, my wolf bristling beneath my skin, begging to break free and attack.

I stopped walking. My brows shot up. “You’re telling me this now?” He shrugged, a casual gesture that belittled the gravity of the situation. “Well, I wasn’t completely sure, but judging from your movements right now, you might go into heat any second.” I pursed my lips. “Male werewolves don’t go into heat.” “Rut, then, or whatever,” he replied. “You know, wizards and witches don’t experience heats unless they’re mated to a werewolf. So drugs like those aren’t common here. I can’t even fathom where they would get it.”

The woman hurries to close the door but I magnify the heat inside her body before she manages to fully shut it. Her loud shriek makes me know that the pain is far beyond anything I have ever made anyone feel. I didn't have time to think before intensifying her heat instead of her pain. Too much heat can cause irreparable damage. But I am sure it would be nothing compared to what they have been doing to the kids. She carries on crying several minutes after I have let her heat return to normal. Her moans get drowned out by the sounds of many kids celebrating. They then trample on her as they rush out, running towards us. I am sure she will live since she is a werewolf.

His ears flattened, and a low, earth-shaking snarl erupted from his throat. From the darkness beyond the ancient oaks, a different pair of eyes emerged. These weren't gold. They were the color of a fresh wound—a jagged, pulsing red. The red-eyed wolf was smaller than Zayden but leaner, scarred, and radiating a malice that made the very trees seem to recoil. Behind him, a dozen more shadows shifted. A pack. A hungry, vengeful pack. Zayden stepped in front of Kaelira, his hackles rising, a wall of midnight muscle shielding her from the crimson gaze.

“Can you do this?” A hard wipe of a sleeve. “Yeah. Okay.” They stepped—two fire teams, bounding overwatch—under the dark skirts of the trees. The first hit fell. A massive werewolf dropped from the branches like a boulder of fur and teeth, smashing into Linda. Claws tore armour like paper. She screamed, hands scrabbling at slick hide. “Help me!” Tara’s scream ripped free as the others opened up—muzzles strobing the gloom. Rounds thudded; the beast barely flinched. It bit, wrenched—Linda’s trachea came away in its jaws; a red arc painted the pavement.

“There are professionals who handle situations like this. Heat workers. They help unmated wolves through the cycle.” I blinked. “Heat workers?” “Licensed service providers,” he said. “Mostly women helping other women. They use toys, manual stimulation, whatever works. It’s discreet.” The idea made my stomach twist. But what other choice did I have? “Okay,” I said quietly. “Call one.” Franklin made the call. That night the active heat hit. The fever surged without warning. One moment I felt warm. The next my body burned from the inside out. Sweat soaked my clothes as I tore them off and collapsed into the pile of pillows.

I would probably end up being more annoyed and irritated than I already was. A werewolf in heat would be irritable, aggressive, and constantly looking for sexual release. The worst part is we would be releasing pheromones that would call not only our mates, but also unwanted attention from unmated wolves. As if that wasn’t annoying enough, the discomfort of the heat will only be gone after the 7 days. Or earlier. If we succumb to the sexual release from our mates.

he voiced out this time. How are they going to fight four huge werewolves in their tiny builds compared to those creatures? Zane’s heart hammered in his chest. But he didn’t show his tension. “Shit!” Zeev cursed and looked at the opposite side to be ready for any sudden attack. A huge ebony-coated wolf with bloody red eyes graced under the moonlight. Zane almost gasped seeing the rogue. But more than its appearance, the almost glowing dark mark on its leg caught Zane’s eyes.