Werewolf Romance Art Novels & Stories

She scooped up some dirt into her hand and caked it into a deep cut on her stomach to stop the bleeding, then began to walk on again, hoping the black wolf was truly gone. Pieces of chipped wood, shaped lumber, and carving stones appeared over the ground as she walked. Then her chest leapt when she saw a little figure nestled against the base of a tree. She hurried over and knelt to lift a tiny wooden whittled wolf out of the bed of leaves it seemed to be so carefully placed in. Aria ran her thumb over the smooth etchings of fur and examined the soft expression the artist had bestowed upon the animal. Whoever had made this didn’t see wolves as monsters like the humans of the kingdom she’

"But there are things you don't understand about me. Things that could put you in danger." Luna didn't care about the danger. All she knew was that she wanted to be with Jaxon, no matter what the cost. And so, they began a secret romance, meeting in abandoned warehouses and dark alleyways, always careful to avoid the prying eyes of the other werewolves in town. But as their love grew stronger, so did the danger that surrounded them. Luna began to suspect that Jaxon was hiding something from her, something that could destroy everything they had built together.

Her long black eyelashes trembled, and Nick's eyes turned red. He clearly had no way of "seeing" her with his eyes anymore, but his narrow eyes gradually calmed down and were still bright and shining like stars in the sky. His magic eye passed over her cheek, where there was a scar that looked a bit pitiful. The gray wolf instinctively reached out his white hand toward her, but quickly retracted it. His hand was covered in fresh blood that had not yet completely dried, which would dirty her face. He forced a smile and gently brushed the fur outside the stone bed where he lay with his sharp wolf claws, enduring the pain that came from his veins as he carefully "drew" the whole story of what h

It’s against the Werewolf legendary rule," I said sternly. She grinned from ear to ear as she kneaded her elbow. "Yes, you will be crowned the Werewolf queen this year." "First and foremost, I must assassinate those five assassins." Nyka later went to the Felis farmstead to carry out our plan for tomorrow. I went into my room and looked out the window. His large eyelashes and the lamp light near his bed table fell on his face as he slept blissfully. It accentuated his attractiveness and sped up my heartbeat. Amethyst, just don't forget about your vengeance and divert your attention away from it. With a shake of my head, I exhaled deeply. He abruptly awoke from his slumber and gazed around, a

Instead, she is greeted by a variety of tastefully done oil paintings that were probably waiting to be displayed in the front hall. Erin knew she should call out to Farida, but she was so captivated by the sheer talent displayed here, that all she could do was just stand there and get an eyeful. One huge painting propped on an easel caught her attention, and Erin walked toward it to get a closer look. Standing in front of the easel, her breath left her. The painting showed two giant werewolves standing on a hill at sunset, their eyes trained on a glowing white stone that appeared to float above their heads. What stunned her the most was that one of the werewolves in the painting was her in w

He was good, like really good. As I turned the next page, I found not the eyes of a wolf but the eyes of Katarina staring back at me, her beautiful hair cascading over one side of her shoulder and a beautiful smile lighting up the curves of her lips. Damn, he got every single detail of Katarina perfect, right down to the tiny scar she had on the corner of her eyebrow. Honestly in real life its near invisible to the eye, the only telltale that it was even there was the slight lack of hair where her eyebrow should be but nowhere near noticeable unless she told you the story of how she had acquired it. I turned another page yet again finding another portrait of Katarina only this time she was a

Before she knew it he was right there beside her as she felt a gush of wind. "I do." he whispered in her ears "But a vampire can have as many wives as he wants" "It is not the same for a werewolf." Nina returned back to him sharply "My mate cannot have another wife." Damon stared at her quietly for a while then he suddenly flashed a smile at her. "Watch your little mouth,Luna." his eyes turned red "I can rip your throat out any second.So go on...choose a dress." Nina didn't like any of them.

I hoped. I laid down. I began to think about the art Alpha Deucalion drew of me. I wished I could see them. It would be good to see my younger self. I began to think of him returning to look for me back then, and a wonderful feeling ran through my gut, imagining his dark wolf which had been small back then with his bloody eye running to see me. I smiled. I was having a crush on a werewolf. Sadly, there will be nothing between us, for I was a human. A werewolf would never date a human and it felt wrong for a human too. I had to stop thinking about him.

Her pendant—two wolfsbane branches circling opposed helms—snapped and skittered across the gravel, spinning to a stop in a coppery smear. They dragged. She changed. The growl rose first—wet, subterranean—before the body followed. Bones unzipped and reset; sinew braided and surged; fur erupted through skin. In a breath, where Sara had been, a towering brown werewolf stood, eyes molten gold. Her left arm tore free. The blond didn’t even scream as her claws opened him face to gut, a red curtain dropping in one stroke. “The—fuck—RUN!” the big one choked. Three bolted, boots collapsing into slapstick panic. She didn’t chase.

The wolf who once prided himself on pristine presentation now seemed entirely neglectful of pack appearances. "Luna," he called, stepping from the shadows between territorial markers. He clutched a bundle of blood-red wolfsbane, a traditional reconciliation offering. "I understand everything now. Though your mating with Dominic is legitimate, you bonded after knowing each other for merely a moon cycle. You cannot possibly love him. You orchestrated this to wound me, didn't you?" He extended the flowers, clearly expecting me to accept them as I always had in the past. I didn't reach for them, but responded with calm detachment.