Werewolf Skull Novels & Stories

Drake and Lyca, their two comrades, were already there, their faces etched with grim determination. “We have them," Lady Susan announced, her voice echoing in the cavernous space. She held up three gleaming stones, their surfaces pulsating with otherworldly energy. Drake and Lyca's eyes widened in recognition. "The stone spirits of the werewolf god supreme," Drake breathed, his voice filled with awe. With reverence, they placed the stones on a pedestal before a massive statue, its towering form adorned with twelve piercing eyes. The stones emitted a blinding flash of light, momentarily illuminating the hideout with an ethereal glow.

The Werewolf threw me hard against dank stone walls. The walls didn't shatter. I did. My skull cracked, bones in my back snapped, and my ribs pierced my torso. Blood sprayed from my mouth as stabbing pains convulsed my body. The Werewolf crouched to leap, and I was only a heap of broken bones on the cold stone floor. "No!" I screamed, and as the scream deepened to a roar, my neck split, my body bulged, and my duster and leather pants shredded away. My creature was coming forth.

He enjoyed the attention. “I’m tired of keeping the boy in the dark,” I said. “It’s for his own safety. Zach, there are werewolves and vampires in this town. Rafael is a blood sucking vampire.” Rafael’s face changed, veins lining the skin below his lower eyelids became visible, gray-ish under pale skin. He opened his mouth wide, flashing long sharp fangs at me. Hannah screamed, standing and pulling Zach into her arms. She staggered back and made him stand behind her.

However, it wasn’t pure gold; it shimmered with intertwining silver threads, like liquid moonlight coursing through the golden glow. Suddenly, my pup trembled violently, and an ancient, soul-stirring, and terrifying roar echoed. With the awakening complete, a golden paw emerged, sharp claws glinting. Then, a tiny werewolf head peeked out. “Mother!” The voice was small but clear, and two round, bright eyes stared directly at me. I flinched at the sudden call, and Kaeren appeared beside me as well. The little pup stretched, its golden fur patterned with sacred silver markings—the legendary emblem of the Primordial Lycan!

A seamless gaze was concentrated on his tattoo of a human skull inside a wolf's body. "Hell no, Skyla! If he sees you and perceives you as a werewolf, he will kill you then and there!" Skyla warned herself in her mind. Skyla couldn't help but think deeper into the angle that her mind just gave to her. "He looks well-composed! But he could be a rogue just like those rogues who looked so good because of their decency disguise! Oh Goddess! Just shoo him away from here, please! I don't want to become his meat!"

Thunder struck with such force that it almost burst her eardrums, and lightning—a strange, ethereal blue color—illuminated everything around her for a brief, terrible moment. She realized with mounting horror that what she had taken for mountains on the horizons were actually thousands upon thousands of skulls piled up high. Not just any skulls—werewolf skulls, their elongated canines gleaming in the blue light, empty eye sockets seeming to follow her movements with accusatory stares.

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.

" he asks firmly. "I don't know, I just got out," I try to explain but he is not having it. He grabs me by the collar of Alanis's T shirt and pulls me until we are out of the house and in front of Alby Crix's house. Alby is the oldest wolf in out pack and he is the wisest. He has all the answers. Werewolves get old, we can live for 1000 years or more but at a point we start ageing. Which almost makes us like humans.

And in the center—an altar. A skull rested on it. Massive. Cracked. Crowned with dull gold. Not wolf. Not human. Something stranger. Kael stepped forward, eyes narrowing. “That’s not a wolf.” Ezra walked closer, his breath catching in his chest. The skull had a shape that didn’t belong in this world—sharp, long, unnaturally curved. Wrong in a way that made his stomach twist. Below it, a flame burned. It didn’t float. It sat. Low. Blue. Quiet. But when Ezra stepped closer, it flickered in time with his pulse.

I laughed as I looked at the image of the snow demon. Both visions disappeared and the image of my she-wolf remained in front of me. So she was talking to me? The she-wolf turned her head to one side and there appeared the image of the black wolf Michael in animal essence. He looked at my moon, not tearing his fiery gaze. But the moon turned away in the opposite direction, where the image of the snow demon, Marun, appeared. He was also in his true essence as a demonic beast. The white wolf also looked intently into the eyes of my she-wolf. There was snow in his eyes. The moon turned away from him in my direction, thereby making it clear that it was still up to me to choose.