Romans & histoires Werewolf The Forsaken

“What is that smell?” “The graves of the Forsaken,” Felix said coldly. “If the living can’t keep Bruess under control, then the Dead do.” The Forsaken. I looked around and saw no headstones or markers that would indicate where these werewolves were buried. They were criminals, traitors, mentally ill, or simply unfortunate werewolves who were not given their last rites. I laughed nervously, “You don’t honestly believe that the Dead still exists here? That’s just a superstition from the old days.”

He never cared—not even when I was his fiancée. After that I avoided his places, his scent, his shadow. But now? I wasn’t his Luna-to-be. I wasn’t his anything. If I wanted to go somewhere, I would. No Alpha could stop me. At my nod, the girls smiled. Lipsticks clicked open. They weren’t creating someone new. They were bringing back the girl I was—before Caleb Grayson. I barely recognized the she-wolf in the mirror—strapless gown, smoky eyes, lips painted in a shade I had never dared wear.

Kade’s POV “Blood of Thorn.. how we have waited long for this reunion.” The words rolled out of the lead Forsaken’s mouth like something rotten. Its blood-red eyes was filled with cruel intelligence as it came forward, and the other four monstrous wolves who flanked looked like shadows with teeth. I stepped in front of Liora, ignoring the malignant pain screaming through my injured shoulder. “Who the fuck are you?” Sable came to stand beside me, and her rifle was raised halfway. “Kade, don’t engage them. The Forsaken aren’t just twisted wolves. They’re old. Cursed. Michelle didn’t create them, she just let them off their leash.”

then they are the other type of rogues, they are called the, "Feral ones, or the forsakened”. these are mindless werewolf that have surrenderd totally to its animalistica instincts. most times like the sisters told me, it results from death of a mate, or rejection. but the forsakened in trade for their humanity are very strong and powerful than regular rogues, sometimes going against the "natural rule" to fight alphas.

Without another word, he bolted toward the sound of the scream, disappearing into the burning ruins. I inhaled deeply, forcing my focus back to the battle. My claws had already formed, the familiar sting of power settling into my limbs. Every muscle in my body was primed for the fight. Then I saw them. A group of Forsaken warriors stalked through the smoke, their blackened armor blending with the shadows, their inhuman eyes glowing with eerie malice. One of them spotted me and grinned, baring jagged fangs. He was massive, taller than any werewolf I had ever seen, his presence radiating power.

The Forgotten's mental manipulation shattered completely when reality itself convulsed with invasion. Through my fragmenting consciousness, I felt thousands of new presences breach into our dimensional space. Not cosmic entities or quantum beings, but something far more primal and terrifyingly familiar. Werewolves. An entire pack materialized around us—easily three thousand strong—led by an Alpha whose presence made the air itself submit. He was massive even in human form, covered in ritual scars that glowed with dark magic, his eyes burning with crimson power that reeked of forbidden arts.

"Or something like him." A chill slid down my spine. "There have been others before." I dragged my gaze from the drawing to her face. "Others?" My voice came out thinner than I wanted. "How many?" Mara didn't look away. "Enough that our ancestors knew to fear them." --- She turned the page slowly, as if giving me time to breathe. I didn't take it. "They are called the Forsaken," she read, her voice low but steady. "Wolves who rejected the Moon Goddess's gift… or were rejected by it."

Alpha Jackson informed her, but Lily smiled at him. "That's okay because I don't want your approval." She told him. She took a deep breath, her eyes focused, her shoulders back, her chin high, "Werewolves have existed since the story of Jesus Christ, the Werewolf King born in the fall of Julius Caesar." She started to recite their history. He was impressed that she managed to learn so much in such a short time. "We don't want to relearn our history." Alpha Derek let out a growl.

"They think they can find her, even in this forsaken future? Foolish. This forest belongs to me now." Raising her hand, Thana summoned the twisted energy of her super dark power. The air around her vibrated with a sinister hum as she reached into the depths of her dark magic, summoning her minions. These were not ordinary wolves, nor simple creatures of the night. They were hybrid werewolves—unnatural abominations created by merging the strengths of different wolf species, fused together by her malevolent will. Their eyes glowed red, their bodies hulking and grotesque, and their very existence was a testament to Thana’s corrupt influence. Each one was faster, stronger, and more vicious than

They weren’t vassals of broken thrones. They were survivors of a legacy long cursed. And now, they would fight for more than vengeance. Kalen stood beside Troy, both bloodied but unbowed. “If we die, we die on our feet.” Troy smirked, the old fire returning. “And if we live, we start again—no lies. No thrones built on bones.” Another monstrous howl echoed through the trees—closer now. The Hollowborn had arrived. They were wolves who were cursed and acted more or less like vampires, feeding on blood and being insatiable. They were also very powerful beasts and their leader was feared in the whole werewolf kingdom.