Wolf With Sheep Mask Novels & Stories

He was tall and lean, wearing dark clothing and a mask that covered the lower half of his face. “More rogues,” he said to his companions. “It’s best to put them out of their misery.” “No,” I said quickly, holding Max tighter. “We’re not rogues. We’re from Ashmoor and Moonshadow packs. We have identification—” One of the other wolves stepped forward, raising what looked like a crossbow. “Rogues always lie.” “Wait.” A younger voice spoke from the edge of the group. A woman, also masked, moved closer to us. Her eyes widened when she saw Max in my arms. “There’s a child. A sick child.”

Susie said, a bit sadly. Mark frowned but didn’t say anything else. “Hold on,” I said, a few minutes later, as I put the finishing touches of a wolf mask of faux gray fur. “Elva, come over here.” She skipped over to me, and I placed it on her face. “Keep it right there a second,” I said. Diligently, she lifted her hand up and kept the mask in place. I tied the ribbons securely behind her head, keeping the mask in place. It was lightweight so the ribbon should be enough. I wanted to test it now, though, rather than chance it at the Ball.

The blade cut through something solid. A body dropped. But no sound followed it that should have. No scent release. No biological reaction my wolf should recognize. That alone told me everything I needed to know. This was not a normal pack. Thor was already engaged with three of them, moving with controlled brutality, but even he hesitated for a fraction of a second when his claws tore into one and received nothing in return from instinct recognition. “They’re masked,” he said sharply. “Something is suppressing their scent.” That explained the silence.

It was a plain, half-face mask made of dark leather, something that wouldn’t stand out too much since many unmated wolves wore masks at these events to add mystery to the night. “You blend in, you observe, and you leave before anyone gets too curious,” Kane reminded me. “No shifting, no giving orders, and for the love of the moon, try not to radiate ‘Alpha’ energy all over the place.” Raze growled in discontent as my beta uttered those words out,it sound commanding to my wolf. I'm sorry, Alpha, my beta bowed to me.His action calming my wolf as he remain quiet afterwards. “I've heard you”. You act like I don't know how to behave. I smirked, slipping the mask over my face and pulling the hood

This pack wasn’t like that border one, gloomy and reeking. Here, joy hung in the air... a night market packed with delicious food and beautiful goods. "Buy a good-luck mask! Animals favored by the Gods!" A tiny stall crammed with colorful masks caught my attention. They had all kinds: foxes, wolves, even some insects with big red eyes. An idea hit me. "Come with me." I squeezed my male’s rough, warm hand and led him to the stall. A young man greeted us with a smile. "I want that wolf mask..." I pointed at one I thought Archer might like.

Outside the vault a massive shockwave spreads across the entire pack territory. Every wolf turns toward the horizon. An unknown army is approaching. And their banners carry the same symbol as the masked commander. But the symbol is incomplete.

The wolves let out fearful whimpers as they drew away. The masked man chuckled lightly, his eyes fixed on a particular wolf. The gaze seemed to pierce this particular wolf. Then with a deep voice, he asked. “ What's the update from the spies?" A buffy wolf, the one the masked man was looking at, took two strides closer to him before turning into his human form as sounds of bones breaking and painful growls rented the air. With a deep bow and a hand across his chest, the buffy wolfman dare not dwindle.

She stood still, trying to resist the force but it overwhelmed her and forced her to the ground. "Arrrhh!" She roared as she changed into a Witch-Wolf, as huge as a bear. She jumped around with force, sniffing around her. Some men were sitting at a corner, drinking from some bottles on the floor. They were speaking gibberish as they nodded their head from left to right in rhythm to music playing from a Small stereo. "What is that thing by the corner of the road?" One of them asked with squinting eyes, pointing at a creature by the road.

But there is no present in the field that I know of who knows witchcraft. Trying to find the person who has done this. My eyes fell on a figure hiding behind the tree. It is a woman wearing a black cloak that cover her most of the face and a mask which covers her lower half of the face. The only thing that can be seen is her eyes that are frequently changing its colour.I only recognised the person by her eyes. Her eyes are now a mix of violent and unique electric icy blue and they are glowing. I do not know or read that white wolves are gifted with witchcraft. But apparently my mate is.

Wrong. It’s wearing human skin—I can feel it. The mask barely holds together. My wolf recoils, not out of caution—but pure, primal fear. Even its eyes—those mismatched pits of blue and black—reek of terror itself. Not fear for it… fear as if it is fear incarnate. Then it smiles. Gods… those jagged, broken teeth glint beneath the dull light, black ichor oozing from the corners of its mouth like tar-drenched venom.