Romans & histoires Wolf.1994

Nala looked at Luka's wolf and watched as his eyes turned red and growled with dominance. The moon was bright in the sky almost full which meant that soon the werewolves would become stronger than usual and therefore would make more effort to go hunting. We were right in the middle of their hunt and they didn't like it so sure enough we were going to get attacked. We could suddenly hear a low growl and a pair of eyes came towards us walking slowly and its front feet lowered down. Luka's wolf growled loudly to show the werewolf that he was an alpha and he should back up but the werewolf kept moving forward. He had wet brown fur and dark black eyes which indicated that he was a wild werewolf w

"Remember that I'm waiting downstairs for you, fast wolf," I heard my aunt shout and describe me harshly. A fast wolf is a wolf that would perfectly describe Fred's niece, Amber. A wolf that involves in sexual acts before meeting their one true mate or before they've reached the rightful age. Age eighteen to start having sexual contact with another wolf. I was not a fast wolf. I am still a virgin and that strange wolf, Fred, and Amber lied about being my boyfriend. I didn't know.

The wolf, who had been busy chewing up Gavin, spat out his shoe and growled menacingly, followed by jumping on me. I sidestepped, but the wolf managed to push me down with its left paw. I let out a loud cry of pain when I felt it sink its teeth into my shoulder, but before any damage could be done, the wolf immediately retracted its teeth, taking a step back away from me, its green eyes staring at me as if staring right through my soul. From the corner of my eye, I saw Taylor throw a silver bomb at the wolf, who immediately growled out in pain, shifting into a very naked and muscular man, Alpha Alexander Pierce, my biggest enemy!

If that was an attempt by the previous owner to make him look a little more presentable, sellable, then it missed the mark by a mile. “First up we have Werewolf number N17M115. A rare wolf from the Northern Mountains. Born in the wild, this fighter wolf has his instincts intact. Captured when he was 5, he was trained from a young age and has been fighting ever since hitting puberty. He has only ever lost one fight…” Jackson tuned him out. He didn’t want to hear it or else he’d be purchasing more than one wolf today.

I didn't question my father's obsession with wolf artifacts and legends, I didn't question why she wore a protective necklace against something that only existed in my books. I didn't question how my father died, I didn't question anything. I just let life go with me, I let it heal from all the things that were left behind to move on. Soon we were ready, I left the house with the feeling that I should go back but still I went. The Hall was crowded, everyone surprised to finally see me out of my shell, out of the cave where I had been holed up since the day of the great pain. - I don't think I even know how many times that day I heard that phrase pounding in my mind.

Saliva dripped from his snarling jaws as he crouched, preparing to attack. The two wolves collided with a thunderous crash, their snarls and growls echoing through the bakery. Claws raked fur and flesh, teeth snapped with lethal intent. Ryker’s agility countered Bruce’s brute strength as they moved in a flurry of strikes and evasions. Despite the chaos, Ryker’s every move was calculated, his wolf form exhibiting both power and precision.

I felt a drop of something fall on my exposed shoulder. I touched it and saw what it was; slobber. As I looked up I saw the red colored collar that was around the wolf that was still in its cage. The tag for this behemoth said Eyolf which was Lucky Wolf in Norwegian. If I survived this Elijah and I would have a long talk about his definition of “dogs.” As Connor made another lunged for me I felt my wolf claw her way to the surface. I complied as I felt my skin crawl and my nails extend to claws.

They sniffed the air, picking up on the distinctive scent of the Quercia and set off behind the buildings and into the nearby small stretches of land still covered in trees, away from human eyes. Feeling the ground beneath him vibrate with the hundreds of varying sources cleared his mind; he homed in on the unmistakable movements of a wolf and sped up. A few yards ahead he spotted the pale, mixed coloring of a pack member and signaled to Gil to get around him. The underling caught wind of them and attempted to throw them off by taking to the alleys, but Gil arrived to cut off the path. Victor dove in on him from behind, aiming for the shoulder with a shallow bite.

Staying light on his paws, he waited as the wolf raced forward, past his peers, eager to be the one to take the first kill. Connor watched, taking a centering breath, his muscles winding with tension. The moment the wolf lunged, his paws leaving the floor, Connor moved. He darted forward, his speed taking the wolf by surprise. He ducked under its outstretched claws, then reared up, forcing his shoulder into its throat. Something cracked under the force, a sickening snap crunching beside his ear. Blood sprayed from the wolf's snout, a river that bubbled as panic embedded in the dying warrior's chest. The fur of Connor's back was coated, his victory guaranteed in mere seconds.

Night crept in slowly, bringing with it a chill that pierced the skin. Under the full moonlight that bathed the forest in a silvery glow, two wolf figures galloped through the night mist. In front, Altair, a large white wolf with fur that glistened like snow, was traveling at full speed. Behind him, a slightly smaller gray wolf followed with regular breathing-that was Devota.