Wild Sin Novels & Stories

Even Caleb, still pale with pain, muttered from his corner: “She’s got more spine than you give her credit for.” For a moment, Silas’s face hardened, carved from stone. Then, slowly, he set the axe down against the wall. His chest rose and fell, each breath heavy. “You think this is a game,” he said finally, voice quieter but no less dangerous. “The Wilds won’t stop. There are more—dozens, hundreds. And when they come, it won’t be fire and pretty words that save you. It’ll be steel. It’ll be strength. And if you forget that, you’ll all die screaming.”

"I am the man who carried the silver-dagger! And I will not have my 'Shame' modded out for your 'Engagement Score'!" The "Biological Truth" of Silas’s blood acted like a "Virus" in the Premium Reality. The white-glass floor of the courtyard began to "Rot" with the scent of his grief. The synthetic perfume of the lilies was replaced by the raw, musky smell of a wolf in mourning. The Seraphina-Skin let out a sound like a thousand glass bells shattering. Her ivory skin began to crack, revealing a core of "Hollow Logic" beneath.

I’ve been running for about five minutes, amazed that I don’t feel even a little bit winded, when a piercing howl shatters the air. For one astonishing moment my body stops dead, trembling and quaking as Sinclair’s wolf calls to me. The sound paralyzes me, no doubt giving him a head start as he takes up his pursuit, but once it’s over I’m able to carry on. At this point a true she-wolf would abandon the lantern and clothing to shift, but Sinclair promised me no one would notice I don’t. All the other wolves are much more concerned with their own hunts tonight, and they won’t even enter the forest until Sinclair howls his victory once I’m caught.

They had ventured into the wilderness as acquaintances, but they were returning as something more, something undefined, yet undeniable. The forest had been a waltz, a dance of discovery, connection, and understanding. They had been guided by the wisdom of the wild, the stories of the werewolves, and the honesty of their hearts. In the wilderness, they had found each other, two souls intertwined by a shared journey, a shared vision, and a shared promise. Silas had shown Raven a world she never knew existed, and in doing so, he had revealed parts of himself that he had never shared before.

Her eyes latched on the icy peaks of snow-capped mountains that stood tall and proud in a distance. On one of those lived the notorious witch. The gusts of cold wind started to nip at their bone as they drew near the mountain. Azriel and Dustin were not as affected by the chilly wind as Sienna was. They had their wolf blood running in their veins. Azriel thought it would be better to shift in their wolf form for easy navigation. He looked over at Sienna who had now started to shiver with cold. Her arms were wrapped around her in an attempt to detain the heat.

**The Wild Wolves** Aria meandered through the lush, vibrant forest, a world alive with an intricate tapestry of sights, sounds, and scents. Each step enveloped her in the rich aroma of damp earth and blooming wildflowers, the vibrant hues of greens and browns intertwining like an artist's brushstrokes across the landscape. Having spent the past few weeks in this enchanted new home amidst the towering, ancient trees and dappled sunlight, she had cultivated a deep affection for the tranquility and solace the wilderness offered—a cherished escape from the chaotic clamor of her former life.

Two hours later, after another awesome fuck,we were inside the car and of course I was bouncing off Drey's cock while Silas cock was deep in my throat. “Fuck…!” Silas muttered, holding my head as he thrusted quickly, chasing his release. He slid his phone out and took a picture of me bouncing off Drey's cock and in no time,I shook violently, falling forward towards Drey's face as he took my nipples between his teeth. “That's what you get for being our bitch.” Silas whispered as I climbed down my mountain of ecstasy

Sin The forest was a living entity, breathing and pulsing with life, but to me, it felt like a suffocating prison. The towering pines closed in around me, their branches whispering secrets in the wind, secrets that taunted me with every step I took. My stomach gnawed with hunger, a constant reminder of my exile, and the cold seeped into my bones, a relentless chill that refused to leave. I had been wandering for days, lost in a wilderness that seemed to stretch on endlessly, devoid of the warmth and comfort of the pack that had once been my home.

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

Only then did I notice the hands gripping at my feet. “You will never be forgiven!” “You will never be forgiven!” I tried to call out for help yet no matter how I screamed at the top of my lungs, no sound came out of my mouth. I waved my hands, searching and finding anything I could hold onto to stop myself from being dragged deeper into the darkness. Yet no matter what I did, the hands continued to claw and pull me deeper. I… I couldn’t breathe… Am… Am I going to die? **