West With Giraffes: A Novel Novels & Stories

Remus nodded, glad that Lyall actually thinks sometimes. “Turns out, there was an island about thirteen kilometres away–” Lyall stopped and searched for a map within Remus’s room. When he found one, he laid it in front of Remus and Zeeb and used his fingers to show the point of distance from the cliff to the island he was talking about. “–the closest island to where the cliff ends and where we think the Hybrid swam into is Casiafell.”

But instead of old stories from my grandmother’s life, the pages were scrawled with strange symbols and sketches—shorthand in her handwriting explaining the purpose of different runes and sigils. Flipping through the pages, there were sketches of wolves, and the last page that she’d written in had a detailed rendition of a nightmarish wolf-beast that made my blood run cold at the sight of it, it’s eyes smudged over with charcoal in the shape of a protective rune. My heart raced when I realized what I was holding. This was no ordinary journal, it was a spell book.

Priamos' Point of View We had crossed the city in an hour or so. Going from walking to hiking, it took longer than I had thought it would. But we ended up on the west side of the city. Where lawns were manicured like a rich lady's hand. Fountains gurgling water. It was the type of place I would have liked to raise Conan.

Gonzalo nodded solemnly, his eyes reflecting the flickering light of the hearth. "Someone as special as you," he murmured. "And it is yours now." The journal became my refuge, offering glimpses into a world where myths and reality intertwined. Each entry revealed more about werewolves, about the community he belonged to, and their struggles to maintain a balance between two worlds. It was written fiction, but Gonzalo did not know that werewolves were real. Whoever owned this book encountered or spoke with a werewolf. Was it Caleb? Because of the way it was written and the descriptions, it seemed like Caleb.

Bloodlines of the east. Then she stopped. Tucked between two massive books, almost hidden, was a thick book. Black leather. No title on the spine but it drew her attention. The cover was stamped in silver foil: a wolf wreathed in flame, a crown floating above its head. Underneath, In faded script: The west kingdom:a place of fire, control and purity. Hazel's breath caught. The mark on her wrist warmed. She opened the cover And a feeling overwhelmed her like a Warmth.

As I glanced around the library, my fingers traced the spine of each book my hands touched. "Help me, Teresa," "With what? What book?" "A book about the West," "Well if it's about the West. What better way to know about it other than from a person who lives there? I'm a Westerner," I shook my head. "No, you don't understand," "What do I don't understand? You're being difficult, Amethyst," I came to a sudden halt, causing Teresa to nearly bump into me from behind. "I'm discussing a narrative from a distinct viewpoint—a perspective recounting tales from the West, not your own," I clarified.

Lincoln gazed at the book cover, he smirked "You can browse about it and you can as well read about it!" West didn't know what he was talking about and didn't want to ask either. Lincoln dropped the book back on the table, the book titled "Vampire System" "Everyone in this house is of the same being, we are of the same existence!" Hearing that everyone was like Lincoln, west felt like collapsing, so everyone in this house also tears people's hearts and intestines and has long claws. "Then what is your existence like??" West asked with a shaky voice, afraid of angering Lincoln so her heart wouldn't be pulled out.

I figured I should calm his mind some now. We got out of the car and started walking down the pathway. "Last year I went to Africa and took down a giraffe. I had it stuffed and it sits in my entryway." I said, hoping to calm him down a little. I grabbed his hand to read his thoughts. He was laughing in his mind because he actually thought I might be a Hunter for a minute, but my giraffe story mostly eased his mind. He thought it could be a lie though. Luckily for him it wasn't.

Not far from them was a large waterfall rushing. "Ah! We have arrived!" the pink-haired woman on the giant wolf's back exclaimed cheerfully. They could see a large castle with a vast fortress to the west of the cliff. West Fort Castle, the territory and estate of the Goldlane Family. [Yes. We have arrived,] Miriam heard Heath's voice in her head. The pack of wolves immediately found their way down the cliff and effectively moved so fast. Crossing the detour outside the West Fortress town which was deserted as it was still the middle of the night, they made sure not to wake anyone up.

Well, I did not wonder for long. Zara pulled a seat closer and sat down. "Tell me about your pack," she said. Well, it was a good thing that my Dad had prepared me for all the lies I needed to tell, so this wasn't such a big deal. "I'm from the West." I lied. "My pack is called the West Wing Pack." "I have never heard of it," Zara replied. I said, "Oh...Well, it's not in the east, it's in the west."