Werewolf Horror Books Novels & Stories

I dropped the books on my bed and flipped one open. It was full of what I already knew: Those bitten by werewolves never survive the full transformation. The poison kills them. End of story. My chest tightened. That couldn’t be true. I was alive. I flipped through faster, scanning for anything new. But everything said the same thing. Death. Pain. Suffering. Nothing about healing or heightened senses. Frustration burned in my throat. I shut the book too hard. Then I saw it—something odd near the back. A few pages were stuck together. Glued, maybe. I frowned, prying at the edge until it came loose.

She thought maybe she could see some things that could break the bond. She walked to the shelves and searched around for any books that involved werewolves. She picked up a book from the shelf. The book had a picture of a black wolf in front of the title. "Werewolves rule." She remembered that she had seen the book before. The book was for anyone who had just transformed for the first time. It was for the new wolves to know and follow certain rules. "Maybe it might have something to do with how to break it." She said , flipping the book. It was a book with a lot of tiny writing. She flipped it for some time, until she got bored. She was about to drop it when something caught her attention.

"Depends on the wolves, really. These ones? Traditional. Bound to cultures, customs, rituals, and strict hierarchy. Honestly, they cling to traditions more than any other supernatural creature I know. It's their method of staying grounded and hidden." That word—supernatural—makes me freeze, the last vestiges of my human denial crumbling away. “Wait. What other supernatural creatures? I thought we were the big secret.” "Hardly." Her mental tone is one of indulgent superiority. "Vampires. Witches. Fae. Demons, if you want to be dramatic. The things you always thought were fairy tales? They’re very real. They don't all live in a secret world; they just live in their world, which often overlaps

“Winter, if she was pushed off of a cliff, he didn’t kill her. Werewolves can’t die by drowning. It might cause them some discomfort. But they’ll still come out of it alive. Didn’t you hear what Roman told me?” Winter shook her head. “Sorry, I was a little busy distracting myself with clothes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a closet like that before.” “Me, either,” said Nora, smiling, “but Roman told me that a werewolf could only be killed by a few things. One of their own kind, fire, and silver blessed by a priest.” Winter glared. “It doesn’t matter. It was cruel. He shouldn’t have done something like that.” “It wasn’t Ares.”

And then she left. I let out a heavy sigh as if I had just escaped from something dangerous. Alone at last, I wandered between the towering shelves, running my fingers along the spines of books that contained centuries of werewolf history and law. As I got to the back of the library, a particular book with a golden cover caught my attention. I read the title which says; The Evolution of Pack Hierarchies in the United States of America. Hmm, this seems interesting. So I reached for it, sliding it carefully from its place. But as I removed the book, I caught a glimpse of a figure through the gap I took the book from.

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Caroline put her foot ahead then her mind said, " Hey! What are you doing? How can you believe in a stranger and that also in a guy." She again put her leg back. "Why are you thinking so much? Just get inside before he changes his mind to give you lift and leave you here alone. You're already a werewolf, brave daughter of a strong alpha of a pack." Her heart persuaded her. "So what if you're a werewolf? Nowadays, humans are more monsters than werewolves. " her mind warned her. "Oie.. Caroline flustered and uttered, " both of you stop fighting." She said so loudly that he got confused too and muttered to himself, " Both? " and he looked around out of the car from the window, " who's the other

Dannie picked up another joint from her room and went to the library. Among the ancient books was one of the largest collections of werewolf history in the world. If there was anything on Balric or the black book it was there. She gathered a variety of titles that looked promising and lit the joint. Taking a hit, Dannie opened the first book. Inside was mostly what she already knew.

The alpha king glared at him. " You dare stand before me and speak of my death. Do you know what this place is? This was where I killed the old lady. Sophia witnessed it and ran. This place was where you had your first meeting to dethrone me. " He paused and smiled. " And this is where I will start clipping your wings. I let you fly too high. " " What?" Ruckus smiled. " Try and see." " Do you know how strong a werewolf can become after killing?" The alpha king released his claws and started walking to the oak tree.

Somehow the desire and need still hadn’t left his eyes. I signed, turning back to the now drained mojito. Apparently I’d finished it and not even noticed. This shouldn’t have happened. With humans, yes, it was possible that one bite could lead to desire and in extreme cases, obsession. Con of being a succubus. But it had never happened with another werewolf before. Is it possible what he felt was genuine? Maybe. Who really knew? It’s not like there were loads of other wolf-succubuses around to talk to. In my 300 years, I’d met one other, and she met an unfortunate end thanks to a couple vampire hunters and a stake in the 1870s.