Wild Dog Novels & Stories

Ryder explained, “You remember, your mate conniving with Darius to infect you with the...” Ghost nodded, “Yes, yeah.” “Good,” Ryder affirmed, “You see, rogue wolves are feral creatures...” Ghost furrowed his brows, “Aren’t all wolves feral?” Ryder scoffed, “Says the guy in the Italian mafia.” Ghost cracked a small smile.

Landing on our feet and growling at the guards who cowered with fear and shock. They had never seen anything like me before. The wild inside me came out, my eyes glazing over with my wolf, and my primal desire to kill on the edge.

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

As she looked across the clearing it was filled with wolves, black, brown, grey, sable, and one lone white wolf. He was immense and stood on the precipice, watching those below. A black wolf that was just as big approached and stood by his side. They exchanged glances and looked in her direction. She had to side step to avoid being bowled over by the gigantic black panther that barreled past her on her way to the top of the bluff. She rubbed her body along the side of the white wolf. She purred as he licked her head.

I might’ve felt bad for the guy if he wasn’t a raging, misogynistic prick. The wolf’s eyes left Duncan for a fraction of a second, flicking over to my face. I held back a gasp, another glimmer of recognition hitting me square in the chest. No, this couldn’t be that wolf. It had been years since I’d last seen it. It was impossible. Faster than Duncan could scream, the wolf lunged. Its teeth sank into his shoulder, slicing through muscle and bone. He dragged Duncan out kicking and screaming, into the night where his cries continued without faltering.

"Well, I was hoping you'd say that." He picked up a small, handheld blowtorch, lighting it with a sadistic gleam in his eyes. The flames danced as he brought it closer to my skin, the heat intense. He pressed it against my side, and I couldn't hold back the scream this time. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, and I nearly blacked out from the pain. "Now, let's try this again," he said, his voice calm and cold. "Where's the clubhouse?" Through the haze of pain, I managed to lift my head and glare at him. "Go to hell."

Luna, the sleek black female, was a bundle of playful energy, her exuberance often instigating wild chases, while Zephyr, a mischievous young gray male, was renowned for his daring escapades, darting off into the woods, exploring the boundaries of their territory with boundless curiosity. With the passage of each week, Aria underwent a transformation within herself. She felt her inner strength burgeon, both physically and emotionally. The wilderness was not only teaching her the ways of the wolves but also unveiling her own latent magic and resilience. Side by side with her wild companions, she discovered a profound sense of safety that bestowed her with the confidence to defend herself, rev

Angelique Opie, the tag said. “After a bizarre series of events at the Basement Bar, details remain sketchy,” Angelique intoned. “Early reports suggest a wild dog attack. I’m here with an eyewitness who saw what happened. Sir, can you tell us what you saw?” Cut to a bloke who looked like he’d crawled out of a secondhand bin—unkempt parka, sagging beanie, mismatched suit pants. He sniffled, blinking slowly. “Yeah, man! It was freaky! There were, like, all these big dogs just runnin’ outta the bar and—”

Dirty's eyes were wide, he didn't say anything. "Did my wolf's fantasy shock you?" I asked, cocking my head to the side. My wolf was prancing around, thrilled at having me tell Dirty what she wanted to do. "Yes. You're bloodthirsty and your wolf is vicious. I've never heard of a female wolf being like that." "Be glad those bars are protecting you." I growled and turned to leave. I had confronted the rogues. All of them from the cabin were in custody. I think I will sleep easier knowing they are all in the jail. 'I feel better too.' my wolf said.

"My name is Wade and I'm a rogue werewolf. A rogue werewolf is a werewolf without a pack, and a rogue werewolf roams around alone and is considered to be a wild and unpredictable wolf. That is all very true because wolves are created in such a way that we are all bound to each other and in that way we create a pack. Wolves aren't meant to be independent because we depend on others around us for our strength. I won't go into detail about why I'm a rogue because it's something I'll only share with my baby when she asks me but a wolf is never a rogue by choice. When that bond of love is broken between a wolf and his pack, it drives the wolf and the man within the wolf mad." "No pack will take i