Wolf Slayer Novels & Stories

“Well, that’s kind of where we are with the f*cking Lichtwolves. Everyone thinks they’re the heroes, the good guys, the saviors, because they’re light and we’re dark. But if you ask me, they’re f*cking Louis the Sixteenth, and we’re the proletarian. They’re the bourgeoise who wants to keep their boot on our necks while everyone continues to think that just because we happen to be named Dark Wolves or Night Wolves we are inherently evil. We didn’t kill your mom, Everly. You know that now. We’re not bad. And you can’t trust them.” She listened to what he had to say, but she had no reason not to trust Jack and his pack either. But then… she also had no reason not to trust Slate. Rider, on the o

Silas's crimson eyes surveyed the scene, searching for Chassy amidst the chaos of the battlefield. When his gaze finally landed on her, a surge of relief washed over him. Chassy, a formidable force of nature, fought with a ferocity that belied her Lycan nature. Her silver fur glistened in the moonlight, a testament to the strength she drew from the lunar goddess. Silas joined the fray, his movements a symphony of lethal precision. Vampires, sensing the arrival of another formidable opponent, redirected their attention to the approaching coven. The clash of species unfolded with a chaotic beauty, each movement a testament to the supernatural prowess of both wolves and vampires.

Create myths. I provide truth. Exact. Detailed. Undeniable. 7:18 AM - Wolf fighter (W-22, name: Sarah Klein). Throat torn by Cormac's enforcer. Bled out in forty seconds. 7:19 AM - Vampire hunter (V-34). Staked by Valentina Corvino. Turned to ash. 7:21 AM - Dragon mercenary (D-03). Holy water attack by Tom Cracksman. Burned from inside. Died screaming.

The witches picked me to be the one who would be able to bring down the werewolf prince, and that is my job and the reason I'm here. I had been taught by Lake Huran since I was a child in all combat skills as well as how to murder and assassinate a werewolf specifically for this job. I had also participated in conflicts between werewolves and vampires, and was dubbed "The Alpha Slayer" by my fellow werewolves since I was responsible for the deaths of hundreds of werewolf Alphas, who were notoriously tough to kill. So I was a werewolf hunter trained by a Vampire princess, and I was on a mission to assassinate the werewolf prince.

I focus a bit more and notice that one of the wolves is Sylas; he has to be fighting Laslo. Sylas is a huge gray wolf, bigger than Laslo’s white wolf. Laslo’s wolf is swiping at Sylas, and his claws connect here and there. Sylas twists his body and kicks Laslo’s wolf, sending it flying into a tree. Laslo’s wolf lays at the base of the tree, sprawled out. Sylas marches to the tree base and hovers over Laslo’s wolf, snarling and biting. His jaw reaches over and grabs at the white wolf’s neck.

Its form elongated, becoming something between beast and man. When it finally stilled, the creature towered over me. Its red eyes burned brighter, drilling into my soul. My throat went dry. "Who… what are you?" I stammered. The creature tilted its head slightly, then growled. But the sound didn’t reach my ears—it resonated within my mind, dark and thunderous. "I am Slayer, your wolf," it declared, the voice reverberating through my thoughts. "But I do not think you are a worthy companion."

Solomon tries to mind-link but is refused by Evan. "It would appear that she doesn’t have an inner wolf. And her scent filled with a wolf smell. Did you shift on the full noon? Christa." Evan turns his face and stares at her beautiful face. Christa was not going to tell them about the reborn. The moon goddess gave her another chance so she could seek vengeance. Being a werewolf might be a price she needs to pay. A victory was purchased at too great a price. "I know something is wrong with me. Can we just leave it to be? It doesn’t matter how I become a she-wolf right now. I need to tell you what is going on in the secret facility we went to yesterday." Christa squawks.

Despite being a part of this pack since birth and growing up within its confines, I have perpetually sensed a sense of detachment, as if I am not truly a part of it. I deeply regret the lack of control I have over my own life. Greetings, I am known as Skyler, a seventeen-year-old individual who possesses the unique ability to transform into a werewolf. I possess an unquenchable thirst for the thrill of the hunt and the taste of fresh blood. My appearance is characterized by my brown hair and captivating silver eyes, which often necessitate the use of sunglasses to shield myself from the painful rays of sunlight. Additionally, I must navigate the challenges posed by the Jocks and the notoriou

Easy, I trained the men and thugs of one of the biggest crime bosses in the country, Clement Slater. Eight years ago, I had stumbled across the man outside a restaurant. It had been a complete accident because I sure as hell didn’t want to drop an alpha wolf on his ass. I had always been averse to figures of authority, so I kept away from them rather than stir trouble. But the fact that it was a mistake hadn’t been seen by his bodyguards. They were on me in a split second. Thank god, Slater had a heart. Yes, shocker! Though, since then, I had found that the man’s heart was black and cold. Nevertheless, he stopped his men from killing me. All of them buff wolves. I would have been torn to shr

Roe gulped in slight fear with her moth agape. The pain in my side subsided and became tolerable. Holding the tree as leverage, I slowly stood up and they both took a step back. That was almost humorous, watching the person who first wounded me, now backing off in fear. "I am a werewolf from Zyrenia." I stood to my full height. "Now, what were you saying about your Elf queen?"