Wildwood Chronicles Novels & Stories

Like it knew something she didn’t. She rubbed her arms, shaking off the thought. She had sat in the living room alone for a while after Elara had left her but she was starting to feel suffocated so she slipped outside when no one noticed, and decided to go out for an evening walk. The Liaison estate was grand, spreading out into well-trimmed gardens before filling out into the wild treeline. Garrick liked to say he kept the wild at bay, but Irvine often thought the wild kept itself alive, waiting, and bidding. Tonight, she wanted to feel it wrap around her.

he murmurs, pressing his lips to the copper crown of Lyric's head. Riley rolls her eyes, already busy watering her collection of plants. "I'm pretty sure Mr. Prickles has seen worse," Sebastian murmurs against Lyric's hair, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through her body. His fingers trace lazy patterns on her arm, each touch reinforcing their connection. Outside the window, the twilight sky erupts with a sudden, earth-shaking roar that makes the glass panes rattle in their frames. The sound reverberates across campus—primal, powerful, and unmistakably draconic.

He nudged her forward again, a silent urging to continue their journey. As they moved deeper into the woods, the moonlight grew stronger, casting long, dancing shadows that played across their path. The forest seemed to hum with a latent power, a magic that Elara had only ever read about in ancient texts. It was the magic of the wild, of the primal forces that had shaped the world long before the rise of kingdoms and empires. And Kael, she realized, was an embodiment of that magic. His presence was not just that of a wolf, but of something far more ancient, far more powerful, a guardian spirit of these wild lands.

"Looks like you'll be getting some new furniture, too." Ezra chuckled as the others reached the porch steps. "Don't think this whole getting shot thing will keep you from helping out," Josh said with a shake of his head. "You're raking the forest next time." "Raking the forest?" Tanner asked as he leaned on the porch railing, his white hair pulled back in a ponytail. "Why on earth would you rake the forest?" "Because Bull Creek has a weird alpha who likes to burn things in the middle of summer," Josh said with a sigh.

He checked the amount and value of the recent harvest from the wasteland that was stated in the ledger. The yearly cross-house tournament was coming, and house Valentino had to offer their share of resources that would be used as part of the reward to give to the Victors. Rufus Valentino rubbed his forehead as he laid his back on the chair made from agar wood . Vampires don't really get tired, but they sure as hell aren't immune to frustration. "I should have a damn secretary for these stuffs" count Rufus muttered with exasperation in his tone.

Just think it into existence. The full moon was a few days later. Just as I did during each prior one, I made my way outside close to midnight. In school, no one watched what I did, so it was easy enough to take an Uber out to the Fells in Medford, where I'd make my way into the woods to perform my ritual. Okay, it was probably pretty crazy considering how vulnerable I was without a wolf, without night vision, and without a powerful sense of smell to alert me to predators. But all caution was thrown to the wind out of desperation.

But she hadn’t looked back. Not once. And I felt that silence in my bones like a storm circling in the dark. The trees thinned, baring crooked branches that clawed at the wind. The path beneath our feet narrowed into frost-slicked shale. Rocks jutted like ribs cracked open by time. Snow fell in hushes now. Not heavy. Just insistent. And the Wilds shifted. I saw it in the trees first—dark trunks painted with faded blood, spiral etchings sunk so deep they looked like scars left by gods who’d forgotten how to weep.

But they bore fury, ancient and thick as blood. Lucian gave a short nod to the woman, and she returned it, sharp as a blade. “We ride now,” he said. But we didn’t ride out like a marching army. We moved, like water through cracked stone. The Wildfolk disappeared into trees and shadows, not to hide—but to stretch themselves through the land. They weren’t coming with us. They were becoming the path. We rode toward the edge of the Wildlands, where the first broken stones of the old road began again. It was there the magic would part. There the rest of the world began to notice you again.

POV: Mia (Zero) The Wildlands began where the maps stopped telling the truth. There were no border stones, no trails worn by trade or migration, just thickets of blackroot and elderpine, bent beneath generations of storms, and the bones of wolves whose names had long been taken by the wind. I followed no marked path. The medallion Chito gave me warmed against my chest as I pressed deeper into the woods, guided by instinct older than memory, by blood that seemed to remember what my mind had never been taught.

The chase became a dance between the human and the untamed, a journey that blurred the lines of reality and the mystical. Through the twists and turns of the ancient woodland, Drew followed the white wolf. The rhythmic patter of paws on soil became a symphony of the wild, and the moonlit trail led them deeper into the heart of the forest—a realm where the boundaries between the ordinary and the extraordinary dissolved in the silver glow of the night.