Western Fantasy Novels & Stories

Wayne bounced back to the land of the living and coughed several times. "What town Wayne?!" Dodge desperately yelled, gaining the attention of both horses behind him, and Wayne gasped from shock as he stood up. "Town? What town?" "Monty's town! Where the hell is that town?!" "Um uh," Wayne gripped at his still transparent thoughts before gaining the information he needed. "A small town names Dextmer, about a four hour ride west." Dodge nodded and looked towards Mateo, both noticing how the hope shined in their eyes, and the Reaper nodded to the kid.

The one in whose submission the legions. "You're wrong again," she said. - Well, of course. There are seventy-two spirits in the Underworld. Every familiar knows this. And two of them are missing. Pascal slammed the book shut in front of the witch's face. - Sixty-second - Governor Wolak and sixty-third - Marquis Andras. And, as far as I know, Volak is depicted as a child with angel wings. And Andras... Pursing her lips in displeasure, Melissa pulled a piece of paper folded into quarters from the top drawer of her desk.

Wendy rolled her eyes, something told her she was lying, and Hayley must know very much about the things in this book. “Do you know about witches?” Wendy asked. That was all she had been seeing in the book. * Weston Hills was formerly a town of witches, a town of dark powerful witches. Amongst these witches were other supernatural creatures, spirits, vampires, werewolves, gargoyles, golems, and the rest of them. Most of them were extinct. Some years ago, these witches fled away due to the numerous attacks launched by humans on them. Though they had the power to fight back, they had to flee because they never wanted what was imprisoned to be returned. Weston Hills had other natural creatures,

After two weeks on a ship with the Baron who is now her husband and his men, they finally arrived in Westland. She was surprised to see how different the land was. She knew it was a land filled with supernatural beings and shapeshifters like werewolves, dragons and foxes. The air smelled different, the infrastructure of the land was different and they were more advanced compared to other nations, they had guns, explosions etc and their carriage looked a lot different from that of other nations. She was in a whole news world, one she was willing to do anything so as not to be a part of.

Feeling lonely and sad. The Creek Star Pack was known for his strength and strong warriors; a part of it they were also recognize for the beauty of their pack which was not just covered by the trees instead on their north side it was the series of mountains that had snow covered on the top of their peaks hence making the pack one of the coolest and mesmerizing.

* Alpha Archer * They came at dawn like a bruise spreading across the land of the West, just like a dark line on the horizon the wolves of the South. I watched them from the ridge above the western clearing, cloak pulled tight against the coldness of the weather, and counted breaths until the shape of their column resolved, banners I had seen once before in nightmares, horses with hooves like thunder, warrior wolves moving with the slow, heavy certainty of those who have taken too many things and never been asked to give any back.

"Do not make them look stupid for picking you. Can you handle the wolves out there, Penelope? They are not like the soft ones inside the palace walls." I stand up so fast my leather chair rolls back and hits the oak bookshelf behind me with a loud thud. "Tell Father I am already packing my bags," I say. "Tell Cooper to have the keys ready." The transition does not happen with a ceremony. It happens with blood and ink. One month passes. The heat of the Central City summer burns off, replaced by the damp, cold fog that rolls off the western tarmac every morning at dawn. I sit behind a grey steel desk in the Western Border headquarters. The building is an old, converted concrete fortress overlo

She placed her hands over her head and sighed. "So, who's the spirit you're working for?" Ben heard something clicked, she looked towards the direction of the sound and saw a very tall male figure standing and staring outside the window, he wore a gray suit that fitted him perfectly. He turned to face Ben, she stared at him. He was really adorable, a very beautiful human. 'Is he Fulani? Only Fulani guys looked this good but wait he's dark or is he Yoruba? A Yoruba demon? He must be one' She thought. But he doesn't look like Yoruba at all, but she was sure he wasn't Hausa, they were not this cute.

Brynn Hollis' POV The message came from a wolf I'd never seen. He collapsed at the gate, half-dead, his fur matted with blood and salt. His eyes were wild, his words slurred, but one phrase cut through the fever: "The Western Wastes are rising." We carried him to the infirmary. Solara worked her magic while I waited, pacing. "The Western Wastes?" Dax asked. "A territory beyond the mountains. Nothing lives there. Or so we thought."

“Deadly snakes, poisonous plants, water that’s not safe to drink, raging rivers, and worst of all, native rogues.” When he says those last two words, Ginny’s forehead crinkles, and she turns to look at him. “Native rogues?” she repeats in her thick accent. “I don’t know how to say it.” “Wolves that have lived in these parts for thousands of years,” Sanders tells her. “They still think those lands out west are theirs, even though the humans are tellin’ ‘em otherwise.”