Western Fantasy Novels & Stories

And they said you are spiritually connected once your mate mark you, my ass. But, what kind of mate can't fulfill her mate's expectations sexually? He wants so much more than last night or our previous nights and I can see that he is holding himself back because he knows that he should be gentle with me. There is a reason why werewolves do not hook up with humans, it's pretty much because they might get hurt. He was driving calmly but fast, faster than he should. It didn't take long until he pulled over in front of Professor Arkinski's house, the pack's doctor. Dad used to friend’s with him and Professor Arkinski used to treat my dad during his last days.

He almost feels pity for his little dove, when she will come to know the boy she is saving her virginity for and rejecting his love for is everyday fuc* ing a she wolf of low ranks. But again, it was important. She has to forget him, and only remember one name. And that's his. Thaneos, her King. " The redmoon pack again launch an attack Sir" "Our Eastern borders. 1590 wolves. Time of attack. 19:00 hours. Today." Than just sighs. Not at all concerned. Calling onto one of his men. " Take care of it. Get the wolves ready." " Yes Sir" Getting up Than was going to leave for a run. Eager to let his wolf out freely. When the speaker stops him.

In their way to DRADIA our heroes passed by NOCTALIA the city of dark elves. The dark elves also known by the elk riders, AHMET decided to pass there to buy a rides for the group he buys elks for them and they passed the night in the hotel. At night AHMET heard something moving he light a candle and he saw his backpack moves he opened it was the egg. After been merged with the feather the egg now is ready to hatch, he took the egg and he put it beside him and he fall asleep.

Some stopped to admire the clothing in the windows, but most people were on their phones or obviously in a hurry to get somewhere. I pulled open the heavy glass door and stepped outside. It was colder today than yesterday. Gray clouds filled the limited sky I could see between tall buildings. I took a deep breath in, smelling car gas and street vendor food. I wrinkled my nose, missing the soft scent of grass and stone from the castle. Westshire was the capital and biggest city in Paradisa. The city had stonework that predated the US mixed with new buildings. Ancient and modern architecture mingled and combined with castles merging into skyscrapers.

ARREN. The Western Sector looked too fucking clean. That was the first thing I noticed when we crossed the border. The roads were maintained. The buildings were intact. There wasn't a single body lying in the street waiting for someone to collect it. My pack was dying and these wolves were living like nothing was wrong in the world. I sat in the passenger seat of the lead vehicle and tried to keep the bitterness out of my chest. It wasn't their fault. They hadn't caused the bleeding sickness. They'd just gotten lucky enough not to have it spreading through their territory like wildfire.

The journey to the western mountains took five days through terrain that grew steadily more rugged and wild. The recovering lands gave way to ancient forests of towering redwood and pine, their trunks so wide that a full pack could shelter in their hollows. Streams ran fast and cold, fed by snowmelt from the distant peaks, and the air carried the clean, sharp scent of high altitudes. Lira traveled with a small company: Aria and two of her seers, Kael and four Ironmaw fighters, Thane and Vestra, and a young western scout named Sorrel who had volunteered to guide them through the mountain passes.

She began to fade with the darkness until no trace of her was seen. Lucia jerked away to earth, panting heavily like she had just run a marathon. Strange, she could remember everything she discussed with her mother. In almost all cases, she barely remembered what took place in the dream. That was a sign... The Witch-Wolf is about to be born... "And where are you headed, Jackson?" A voice trailed him as he sauntered through the thick forest after the meeting of his pack in the forest. He felt heavy because like all other times, he had been frustrated, insulted, and used.

I insisted. “On what.” “Werewolves,” I blurted out, standing up while staring at him. I did not miss the slight parting of his lips before he masked the surprise with concern. “Werewolves? Are you a fan of one of those werewolf horror movies? To be honest, I do like them a lot too. They’re better than the mushy romances teenagers are always writing about us.” “Us?” “Humans, and also werewolves, demons, angels.”

Fantasy fodder for late-night scrolling. But the card felt real between her fingers. And the ache it sparked low in her belly was very real. She went. The address led her to an unmarked steel door in an alley downtown. A man in a tailored black suit checked her name against a tablet, eyes lingering appreciatively on the dress she’d chosen—deep crimson silk that clung to every curve, slit high enough to flash thigh with each step, neckline plunging just enough to make her feel dangerously exposed. He nodded once. The door opened.

Chapter 39: The Western Friction The grand strategic maps of the petrified cedar war table had expanded once more, moving past the smoldering naval ports of the East and the frozen, severed mountain valleys of the Northern Territory. Beta Vance had spent the hours before dawn cleaning away the dark iron markers of the Eastern pureblood dynasties, replacing them with a complex grid of emerald-green obsidian tokens representing the dense, fortified valley-states of the Western Alliances. The Western faction was an entirely different structure from the rest of the continent; they were not ruled by single tyrants or ancient bloodline councils, but by a militaristic federation of twelve high-rank