Wolf Vore Novels & Stories

They just walked on as if nothing special happened when something of a special and celebratory nature had happened. The werewolves had defeated the vampires but these last set of warriors acted as if nothing of that sort had happened. The most notable of all the warriors of the Malreux Wolf Pack was the head warrior, and it was only right that he was the most notable since he was the leader of the rest of the warriors and the one who had led them to victory.

Exactly where someone forgettable belonged. The system approved. [DAILY ROUTINE: ACCEPTABLE] [POWER VEIL: STABLE] [RECOMMENDED BEHAVIOR: COMPLIANT] Warm-ups were called. Students ran. Wolves surged ahead immediately, long strides, predatory ease. Vampires followed with unnatural efficiency—no wasted motion, no breath out of place. Hybrids clustered in the middle, some struggling, some adapting. Alpha ran at a human pace. Not slow enough to draw attention. Not fast enough to raise questions.

The wolf from my dream was here. It was physically here. It was massive, with glowing blue eyes. He looked pissed. Monica shook next to me. “Holy fuck…. I can't do this!” Monica's voice was laced with fear. She dropped the knife she held at my side. She turned to flee. Before she got the chance. The black wolf pounced on her. Chad was nowhere to be seen. Of course, P.O.S. The wolf growled in her girl's face. Monica began sobbing. I couldn’t let her die.

The eight wolves were not wolves at all. Their forms shifted. Melted. Revealed something underneath. Eight figures made of shadow and hunger. Eight fragments of the second Void wearing stolen flesh. “No,” Aurora breathed. “That is impossible. They were human. I checked. I verified their bloodlines.”

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.

" he asks firmly. "I don't know, I just got out," I try to explain but he is not having it. He grabs me by the collar of Alanis's T shirt and pulls me until we are out of the house and in front of Alby Crix's house. Alby is the oldest wolf in out pack and he is the wisest. He has all the answers. Werewolves get old, we can live for 1000 years or more but at a point we start ageing. Which almost makes us like humans.

I feel my back hit the wall, nowhere to step back now. Mate? What the hell is he talking about? Werewolf do believe in soul mates. The perfect other half or counterpart chosen by the moon goddess for them. Werewolves find their mates by their smell and appearance. The first time they see each other, they’d know. But I smell nothing from this guy. I don't feel anything. Ugh, he must be drunk. But...he doesn't look drunk and I also don't smell any alcohol. And most of all, werewolves don't get drunk very easily.

I had rubbed it in her face that her words would never happen. I had trusted them and their love for me, only to be stabbed heartlessly in the back by Thorne. I looked at him with painful, teary eyes, but he didn't blink. His eyes were filled with nothing but vengeance. "What are you waiting for? Capture her. She's the Vamwolf who killed the Alpha's daughter," he said heartlessly. His voice wasn’t breaking, which meant he had planned to do it all along. The werewolves tried to get hold of me, but I flung them in different directions, some of them flying out of the cottage through the roof, walls, and windows.

In the middle of a clearing, two massive wolves were locked in battle. Luka’s dark, hulking form clashed with Alec’s silver wolf, their fur matted with blood and dirt. Their snarls filled the air, a terrifying sound of raw power and fury. They circled each other, teeth bared, their eyes blazing with a hatred so deep that it cut through Elara like a knife.

It contained everything a wolvire could do, in this case, of course, an ordinary wolvire. Hugo's temper tantrums when a passage in the book explains that Wolvire's wolf-form bite or scratch to a vampire is more deadly than the usual wolf-shifter bite. Vice versa, if Wolvire is in vampire form, then their bite at wolf-shifter will also be more deadly than ordinary vampires. However, that did not apply to the wolvire named Barbara.