Wolf With Sheep Mask Novels & Stories

Their eyes glowed with different colors—red, gold, green, and violet—but none matched the usual shades of werewolves. The leader stepped forward. A tall woman, dark-skinned, with glowing teal eyes and long silver braids flowing down her back. Her mask was that of a fox, carved with runes that shimmered faintly. “You come uninvited,” she said, voice sharp and regal. Lily and Callum stood side by side. “We came seeking the Severed Pack,” Lily said, straightening her shoulders. “Draegor said you could help us.” At the name, the masked figures shifted, exchanging glances.

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.”

He had been strictly trained since childhood, and even sneaking out to see me was a huge risk. His father had warned him, "Emotions are a weakness for a pack's Alpha." So, he had no choice but to wear a mask and be a nameless shadow. I had mistakenly thought Jackson was the boy, all because he wore a similar mask as an adult. Later, once Waylon had grown strong, he had wanted to tell me the truth. But by then, I had already risked everything—even sacrificed my wolf—to save Jackson. During that year I lay in a coma, it was Waylon who stayed by my bedside every night.

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.

I looked at him and couldn't help but laugh at his dress,his disguise look funny. I unfolded the garments,it contain a dark, hooded cloak made of lightweight but durable fabric, designed to conceal my features without making me look suspicious. Beneath it was a simple black tunic and pants, a far cry from the tailored, authoritative clothing I usually wore. The boots were sturdy but worn, the kind an ordinary pack member might wear for work rather than prestige. To complete the disguise, my beta handed me a mask. 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.

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.

It was a familiar figure and mask. The ‘Wolf King’ had returned!

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.