Wolf Rage Novels & Stories

Warning: This scene features intense, explicit violence including torture, mutilation, disembowelment, and brutal killing. Ronan's possessive rage is shown in its rawest form. Not suitable for readers who are uncomfortable with dark, visceral content. ~ RONAN ~ The stench of two rogue wolves fills our noses as we race toward it, Kael growling furiously inside me. Even from this distance, I can feel their fear. Absolute fuckers, the bastards should have thought about that before they laid a hand on what belongs to me.

“I’m not sure why you’re being so difficult, Wulfric, but the rogue you're housing in your pack is my fated mate, and as she's my mate, I’d like to take her back to my pack. I will not leave until I accomplish what I came here to do. I think you can understand my predicament. And if I have to break the alliance and start a war over this, I will. Not that I want to, as I, until this point, have seen you as a friend.” “First of all, Adalwolf, the rogue is not just property that gets handed over from person to person. So if that’s what you fucking think, then I am definitely not bringing her anywhere near you. Second of all, that rogue you are speaking of also happens to be my sister. And you a

I wasn't able to think properly due to the amount of rage that had consumed me. My wolf who had gone missing was now back equally furious. She clawed at the barriers, demanding release to unleash the seething heat within. I yielded without hesitation, granting her control as she surged forth, a relentless force of primal fury. I shifted into my wolf Riyaga. With her snow-white fur, blue eyes, and a crescent on her forehead, she looked regal. She had an unhealed scar spanning her neck which she'd earned while fighting a group of rogues.

Alpha Dagon tilts his head as he looks at the mad wolf, who slams himself against the wall with a cry. “It means something is stirring. Mad wolves come from deep pain, trauma and loss. Some of them are high on wolfband, others are broken, mentally and emotionally, they don't choose, their minds snap and they lose control. They inflict pain on themselves and lose entirely their human side, unlike rogues who still have a chance to live normal lives after banishment from their packs.” Kieran's eyes narrow. “He wasn't just mad, he was strong, quick too, he almost got me,”

Their leader is a black wolf with blue eyes, and he wants to stand on the high cliff and declare war on his opponent. The Red Wolve did not dare to stop but only dared to lean to the side. Wolves usually have gray and yellow fur, but with wolves having white, black, and red fur is very special. The black wolf that received the order to distract Windy was just a wolf with yellow fur because to distract the opponent, he disguised himself to look like Ezra.

At first Daisy didn't see anything out of ordinary but a loud yawn from something drew her attention down to the bottom of the wardrobe, where she saw six little creatures staring at her. "Mother, this is what I am working on," Nilela said besides her and pointed at the two identical wolf creatures with white furs and wings, "This is Ice Fang and his twin brother, Ice Frost," he introduced them and proceeded to point at the Lion which fur was burning, "And this is Fire," he then pointed at the one made of winds, only that his head was that of a leopard, "And this is Windy," he pointed at the fifth creature, a full werewolf with five tails, "This is Zelda," and he pointed at the last one, a f

Madam Amelia seemed to know this as she nodded her head at me. “Now what? You can’t break your vow. What will you do? You can’t have a Wolf Rider running around Astoria.” There it was. She knew what her daughter was. The half human part of it was the least of it. The fact that she was a Rider—a creature that could control a werewolf with a simple command. A creature that ruined my family's life. A creature, who must be destroyed before it gains power. There hasn't been a rider born in half a century, and even before, there was only one that ruled Astoria.

I wasn't going down without a fight. Soon Tyce was next to me, and I saw the resemblance between his wolf's and Jasmine's. Both wolves were brown, but while Jasmine had a white belly and toes, his was pure brown with black-tipped fur, like a huge grizzly bear. His amber eyes glared evilly at the enemy, as he fought like a maniac. I'd never seen anything like it. In his wolf form, he was completely feral and unpredictable, ready to kill mercilessly, and I suddenly understood the reputation his pack had—they were definitely not werewolves you ever wanted to fuck with. His warriors similarly followed suit, being a huge advantage in our fight.

In the blown window, a brown she-wolf crouched half inside, breath hot and rotten, eyes intelligent and hateful. “Out of my house!” Jake bellowed. The wolf weighed him, then lifted a muscled forearm as he fired. Rounds sparked off hide and bone. Zak and Tara piled in. “Smart bitch,” Jake snapped, still working the trigger. “She’s not going down!” Zak barked, stitching a burst. “Body!” Jake yelled. They dragged fire off the skull. The she-wolf shrieked, rocked, then vaulted backward into the yard and vanished into the dark.

Which made it confusing how she had done so much damage to the rogues. One of the rogues had claimed that the she-wolf had half shifted and held that half shift while fighting them. Half shift is a learned skill that few master. For an underage she-wolf to do that and inflict damage on rogues, it was impressive. I smiled. Maybe the she-wolf would be worth the trouble of an unauthorized visit to her pack.