Werewolf Underworld Novels & Stories

I didn't know what my name was or where I was from, who my parents were, if they were alive or dead, the only thing I knew when I woke up that faithful night was that something terrible had happened to me and that I was not an ordinary human, it was just when I arrived at this mansion I realized that I actually am a werewolf like the rest of these strange people. The werewolves here kept calling me madam Natalia and they seemed to know who I was from the way everyone went out of their way to please me and make me feel comfortable. I only assumed it was my name and so, I answered or gave a slight nod whenever they called the name, although it felt a little weird when they called me Natalia, I

The air was cool, and the walls were lined with old, faded photographs and artifacts. As they descended further, the passage opened into a large, underground chamber. The room was filled with ancient relics and symbols etched into the stone walls. Alex guided her to the center, where an old, intricately carved stone table stood. "These artifacts," Alex said, his voice echoing in the chamber, "have been passed down through generations. We are the protectors of this land, the guardians against dark forces that threaten humanity." Emily's eyes darted around, taking in the ancient items. "So, you're a werewolf?" she asked, still trying to wrap her head around the revelation.

THE CITY OF BOMADA (THE SECOND ZONE, CRYSTAL WHITE PACK) A sudden, unnatural darkness swallowed the city whole. Chaos erupted. Werewolves stumbled and fell, their vision stolen by a powerful, roaring spell. A force greater than them had struck without warning. Wealthier pack members, those fortunate enough to own cars, attempted to flee. They sought refuge in the human world beyond their territory, but nature itself turned against them. Thunderbolts crackled through the air, striking their headlights, plunging them into deeper despair. Trapped within their vehicles, they could do nothing but listen to the desperate cries of their kind.

he commands, looking at Roark. “We began climbing down the parapet wall one by one. I was at the rear end of the line, and when I noticed some commotion by the south wall, I hung back. I saw three figures emerging from somewhere underground. They were heavily cloaked, and hoods were covering their faces, but they were Werewolves.”

“Holy hell… I’ve never seen her like this.” Nimah roared and charged. The ground cracked under her weight. She slashed, claws slicing through Elaria’s frost barriers. Elaria staggered backward, barely holding her ground. “So, the rumors are true,” I said, carrying Lyra to safety. “So this is the power of a full-blooded werewolf. She is bigger than Kaid.” Elaira extended her hand, mana pulsing. The ground trembled — vines and roots burst through the ice. “Don’t forget,” she said with a smirk, “I’m still a druid.”

If that happened, it would break down the foundation of everything our kind has accomplished throughout the years. It was bad enough that wars were breaking out all over the world, with what humans were left, the full-blood werewolves, half-bloods, and the turned werewolves. If we indeed had a breakdown, we could end up in a full-blown war, with too many lives lost. Thankfully, there was an underground sector called the Renegades, consisting of very highly trained full-blood werewolves. Each of them had a unique ability. I was also part of the Renegades but didn’t rank high. I participated as an occasional volunteer.

The land was sharply divided between two dominant and unforgiving species: the fierce and untamed werewolves, guardians of the moonlit night, and the elegant, immortal vampires, lords and ladies of the eternal darkness. The werewolves, bound by the lunar cycle, roamed vast, dense forests and jagged mountain ranges, their society structured around the pack, loyalty, and primal instincts. Their eyes, aglow with the primal fire, bore the untamed essence of the wilderness they called home. The moon, an ever-present celestial witness, governed their existence, dictating their transformations and guiding their communal rituals.

She reminds me, the concern for our safety clear in her eyes. “I will. I’ll let you know the details once you return.” “Sounds like a plan,” she smiles and pecks my lips. —------------------ An hour later, we are walking into Shadow Den. The place is also called the Underworld for supernatural creatures. Not only werewolves but different types of creatures are found here. The ones who did not get a place in the world stay here. It's a breeding den for every sort of illegal and criminal activity. The place is shrouded in secrecy, a labyrinth of narrow alleyways and dimly lit buildings. The air is thick with the stench of tobacco decay and a promise of danger. Anyone who’s not entered this are

That’s all. The Underground doesn’t deal anything harder than pot. They don’t traffick girls. They aren’t a car theft ring. They aren’t even a shoplifting ring, from what I can tell. They’re just a semi-coed fraternity with a cooler name. A bunch of artists and intellectuals who want to hang out together and protect each other and do whatever werewolves do for fun. And anyway none of this matters because I’m not dating him. To a werewolf pack, I’m just a human female, an Omega. The lowest of their members. Beneath everyone.

That is common knowledge for god’s sake. “I mean, they’re the nearest werewolf pack in our tribe.” I nodded and take a sip of my coffee, he’s right about that, and the chance of these werewolves being the suspect of our mother’s murder is highly possible. “Domlur has a dungeon that is rumored to detain humans,” I added. Domlur according to my father is not a dangerous place, it was once great trading and marketplace. When the werewolves occupied the land, humans were either killed or chose to surrender and be their slaves.