Willow Owl House Novels & Stories

Magnolia Henry or Hendrix, I’m not sure who is in control right now, stays quiet as we walk to the Willow pack’s main house. This pack is much smaller, they need the alliance with us more than we need it with them. But even if they are small, they’re still good. The pack house is like a two story building. I know from being here last time that they only have on guest room here. They aren’t used to having guests, they haven’t had a need for more space. The Willow Pack is decently secluded and poses no threat to anyone.

“That would make me feel better.” I didn’t plan to contact Willow at all. She needs her own space too, and me getting up her ass every time she’s not home will only lead to resentment in the long run…but Glenn just lost a mate, and he’ll still be paranoid about losing Tully too. “Willow?” “Yes?” “Where are you?” “South wing with the architect.” “Really?” I ask, surprised. “I didn’t know you had a meeting with an architect.” “I thought you set it up.”

He tried to make out the figures but it was blurry, from the weather it had been exposed, and yet he could see the willow tree inside, it hadn’t been as big as now but judging from the photo the cabin had been built around it. Ceberus heard a wooden creak, he went outside the room slightly glancing at the room across, a dusted, neat bedroom, it had looked unused. Cautiously he went towards the noise from the living room, his eyes subconsciously morphing to its Lycan form, his hands turning into claws, he felt a small predator, it growled. Coming besides the tree he noticed at the far corner a small nest, a female wolf growling at him, three little pups beneath their mother barely minding the

Willow gasped at how beautiful the area was. “It’s perfect! We can build a house right by the tree.” Willow told him. She wondered how the hell they would build a house with only the two of them. Then she thought she might use her magic to help. She stepped away from Falling Feather to speak to the goddess. Willow chanted to the goddess for help in finding a new home. Then the wind picked up slightly, and she moved her hands; the surrounding trees started to creak, then move. She heard Falling Feather say something, but she ignored him for the time being. The goddess wanted her to have this home. When she stepped back, a small house stood beside the willow tree.

They didn't kick me out into the woods— that would have brought unwanted questions from neighboring packs. Instead, they kept me like a dirty secret tucked away in the back of the house. My old bedroom, the spacious second-floor room overlooking the garden, was stripped bare within twenty-four hours. My herbal collections, my hand-drawn maps of local flora, my soft blankets I used for nesting— all of it was tossed into cardboard boxes and shoved into the narrow, drafty attic. Willow was given my old room. The treatment inside the house bled into the pack grounds almost overnight.