Where The Wild Things Are Novels & Stories

As children Dyce and I were told not to engage with the “wild ones' ' who supported themselves without the need for “royal civility'. Those people were aimless wanderers who did nothing but take. When they saved me, I didn’t see my rescue quite so clearly. I was angry and took it out on them. I had lost my family and my home. All that I had known in my twelve years of life was ripped from me before I had time to even blink. They were patient with me and gave me time to learn to love and trust them. I consider them an extension of my family now. For years after I was taught the life of the wild ones, a name the people of the land found very endearing, how they lived in unison with the land. T

“It doesn’t, child. Forever means we keep choosing.” Tare kicked dust. “But I’m tired of other people’s pain. I want my own sky.” That night, his moon pulsed red. Not from choice. From anger. He ran. Out of the Circle city. Past the buried stones that said *CHOOSE*. Past the gardens. Into the Wildlands where no wolves had gone in 500 years. The Wildlands were forbidden. Not by law. By memory. This was where the last temple of “one moon” crumbled. Where wolves once lived without choice.

At first, I could only hear the muffled voices of people I barely recognized. Even though I wanted to move, my body felt too heavy. Just lifting a finger suddenly felt like carrying a 60 kg dumbbell with only one hand. Little by little, the voices became clearer and I managed to identify that one of them was my secretary, Viola.

He backed off slightly and looked down at me, enjoying seeing me panic. "Why are you so anxious?" he asked, his eyes glinting darkly as his gaze swept over me once more. I tried my best to curl up into a fetal position, but I couldn't move my limbs at all. They felt like they had all frozen in place, and no amount of struggling would work. "Stop fighting it," Jared said, looking at me with fake pity. "It's going to be even harder for you if you accidentally trigger the Punishment Mode." I didn't want to know what that meant, and I certainly didn't want to try to understand the playful glint in Jared's eyes.

"This is your last chance. Tell me where the clubhouse is, or you'll wish you had." I shook my head, my resolve unwavering despite the terror gripping my heart. "Never." Derick sighed dramatically. "Fine. Have it your way." He clamped one end of the cables onto my fingers, the metal biting into my already injured flesh. The other clamp he pressed against my leg. With a sadistic grin, he flipped the switch on the battery, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. The pain was unlike anything I'd ever felt, my muscles seizing and my vision blurring. I screamed, unable to contain it, as the current surged through me.

Night birds call overhead, their cries sharp in the silence, and leaves rustle in the breeze – a wild symphony that drowns the packhouse chaos for a blessed moment. But peace is fleeting. Atlas veers east without warning, instincts overriding my intent to circle the grounds. A wild rabbit darts across our path, its scent a tantalising burst of fear and speed. We give chase, paws pounding, heart thundering, crossing the border markers into no-man’s-land – the unclaimed wilds where territories blur and dangers lurk untamed. The air grows thicker here, heavier with untethered power, the trees denser, their branches clawing at the sky.

I whispered, my throat raw from screaming. ​Marcus laughed, a harsh, barking sound. "Not our problem. North is the only way that doesn't lead into Ally territory. You go North, you hit the Wildlands." ​The Wildlands. ​The unclaimed territory. A vast expanse of dense, frozen forests and jagged mountains inhabited only by rogues—wolves gone mad with bloodlust—and things even worse than rogues. It was a death sentence. Kaelen hadn't just exiled me; he had politely told me to go die somewhere he wouldn't have to smell the corpse.

he urged. She rushed to the end and stepped onto the cold, damp ground, wincing when her bare feet made contact with rough pebbles. She gazed at their surroundings and saw that the bolt-hole exited the back of the keep where there was only a skirt between the keep and the hillside that jutted skyward. Wordlessly, Fergus melted into the darkness, and Mary ran to catch up to him. They moved along the bottom of the hillside and headed for the dense population of trees at the perimeter of Duncan’s holding.

“I don’t want to feel anymore wards.” All of us leap into defensive position as a small, airy, greenish form that looks like a hare zips into the kitchen. In close pursuit, Tessa wheels and darts after it, banging around under the tables and knocking over chairs. There’s a stampede of pounding feet, then Tasha and Tavie round the corner after the dog. A peal of trilling laughter erupts as they watch the show, jumping up and down ecstatically and clapping their hands. Scrabbling to get her feet under her on the slick red oak floors, Tessa makes a wild pounce and lands on the magical rabbit, searching frantically for it beneath her when it disappears with a poof.

There was a finished nursery with wolves as the theme. As I walked in, I noticed a light grey rug laying the tile floors. The crib was white with grey sheets and mobile on top with mountains, trees, and a wolf howling at the moon. There was a giant wolf stuffed animal and a couple of smaller ones. A free-hanging bookshelf had an assortment of books. There was a glider chair and a toy box filled with stuffed animals and toys for the baby. The room is a light grey, and there were three pictures on the wall over the crib, two were of a grey wolf, in one it was howling and in another it’s amber eyes stared at you. To my surprise, it looked calming and not creepy. I could tell the wolf pictures w