Western Stories Novels & Stories

Mo, Kan, and Takoda ride at our flanks, and together, we lead our people west. *** Weeks turn into months, and before we know it, we have driven the cattle and the wagon party across Missouri, leaving the lands of the Maize Pack behind. Now, we are deep into Nebraska, the vast prairie stretching before us like an endless sea of golden grass. The journey west has been anything but easy. The further we travel, the more evident it becomes that the land itself is as much an adversary as any rogue wolf.

A human’s legend turned into reality with a single spell for centuries. The Wyres blame the Shifters for some reason. Maybe the witch was one. Who knows. All that matters is that this war has been going on for what seems like eons. Sometimes we win. Sometimes we lose. We’ve managed to push the Wyres west, leaving them the mountains and wilds of North America while we benefit from Western civilization. To most, the Wyres are barbaric, forced into the rural lands to bleed dry among the forests and rocks. But the Wyres are dangerous.

Alpha Jasper West, a high-strung rodeo enthusiast, is enjoying his life and winning big as a bull and bronc rider in the lower states of the US. However, he receives an urgent call to return home to Montana and the Medicine Rock Pack. Before he can leave New Mexico, he unexpectedly meets his mate, Lianna Baca, who’s a barrel racer. Despite his urgency to reach home, Jasper decides to take Lianna and her horse along with him on the journey back home to Montana.

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.

Reagan’s POV In case you don't know, the West Werewolf land is a no-go area out of all the regions in Werewolf land. It is said that the West land is filled with rogues. I watched Dolphus look at me as if I'd just heard one of his deepest secrets. “What the heck did you go to the West for? Do you wanna get killed?” I retorted as I tried to punch him with my fist but he subconsciously dodged as if he was expecting the blow.

I interject. “No. We’re more like companions. I was never married and he took me and my son in when I had nowhere else to go; my son lives in the city. A business man, suit and all. He ran off the ranch life a long time ago.” Is almost a sand story but I can tell by her way of speak that she’s proud. Both of her sons were successful. Her real son is rarely seen, sticks to the city and works hard hopping that someday he will get his big chance to make it big in the business world.

I already knew this was not going to be easy. As I was driving, I realized that I was heading west. Ironically, I used to dream about moving west to areas like Colorado, Wyoming, or Montana. Most people would opt for California. I however, wanted a place where I knew could provide a huge landscape of open ranges for my wolf to run after I made the shift and met her on my birthday. I also need areas that would be isolated.

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.

To become separate independent entities. I sat in the silence of her words and let them soak into my skin. The Western clan was notorious for its ruthless treatment of its subjects and overall cruelty. It was rumored that slaves in the western clan were forced to fight against the clan's strongest warriors. Putting a feeble slave before a well trained warrior was murder. And that was exactly what happened.

South City was dozens of miles away from any safe waterbody to swim in. Then, something clicked among us. We looked at Cole in unison. “Hell, no,” he said, his arms crossed stubbornly over his chest. “But you are the only one among us who has been near the ocean,” I explained. The central stronghold of the West was in the part of America that used to be California. Cole shook his head stubbornly. “It is one thing to swim for fun at a beach. It is completely another to swim with dozens of wolves a hundred metres away. I’m not doing it.”