Wolffe Clone Trooper Novels & Stories

There I was— Walking out. Not alone. Beside me… another man. Young. Unfamiliar. My eyes darkened as I watched us move through the corridor. Side by side. Like we knew each other. Like we belonged in the same frame. Every movement. Every detail. Not similar. Not close. It was exactly me. “Someone cloned you,” Markus said quietly. “Who would dare?” Raphael asked, jaw tight. My wolf exploded. Possessive. Violent. Territorial. Mine.

I am screwed. Seeing it approach, a wolf from my pack gets alert and starts running over to me. He looks at me and growls, as if signalling me to run away but I can't. My feet are trapped in one place. The wolf jumps over the livid rogue, successfully trapping him in place as his claws rake over the rogue's back. In a jiffy, the rogue is able to flip them around and the wolf from my pack is now under him. A rogue over powered a healthy wolf? How is that possible?

My off-road vehicle tore across the border line, but I didn't head toward the bustling human cities. Instead, I turned the wheel toward the one place every werewolf feared to tread: Death Valley. There, I found them. A pack of Rogues, cast out and exiled by their former tribes. They were a sorry sight—missing legs, blinded eyes, dressed in rags that barely clung to their emaciated frames. Their eyes held nothing but hollow despair. In my last life, I wasted my White Wolf gifts playing the dutiful housewife, cooking soup for two ungrateful Alphas.

Her silver skin was burning with a fierce, protective heat, her anger radiating off her in visible waves of shimmering light. Alpha Wolfe stepped forward, his smile fading into a grim, professional scowl. He let out a low whistle, and from the shadows of the secondary corridors, ten more Feral wolves emerged. These ones were different from the rogues on the plateau. They were wearing heavy combat armor plates bolted directly into their flesh, their eyes burning with a stable, calculated violet light. They didn't move like mad dogs; they moved like trained soldiers.

I nodded stiffly, still buzzing from the feeling of his lips on my skin and wanting more. He sent a cheeky smirk my way before grabbing my hand in his and pulling me in the direction of his territory. We held hands as we walked back to his territory through unclaimed land, where rogues were free to roam. Rogues are wolves that have either left their pack or been kicked out. They were ruthless, soulless werewolves who don't care about rules or authority. When we finally made it to Dark Apollo's territory, Bryan's Beta Andrew met us by the border. He welcomed me back, before telling Bryan about something to do with the pack business.

, Marlow said solemnly. “Alpha Christian Xavier, you have plotted against your people to destroy the harmony we've built over the years. You have been careless with our peace and most especially our safety. And for that I hereby banished you and everybody who chooses to follow you. You're never to return unless you undo what has been done!” He was now a Rogue wolf!

“If you do not want me here, you can fuck o—” A low, primal growl cut me off. It was so deep, it vibrated through the floorboards and straight up my spine. Osric had turned, his usual blue eyes flickering into a molten, amber-gold. His chest rose and fell in ragged heaves as he inhaled sharply, his wolf surging to the surface. He looked like a predator that had finally found its prey. “Ossy?” Lucius whispered, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Assume you are dealing with a world-class threat! Xanne: (Jumping into a window behind all of the men and sitting down comfortably as he takes a sip from his flask yet again) Oooohh!! That hit the spot right there!! So we're officially world class threats now huh? Okay well I guess I should introduce ourselves properly. WE ARE W.O.L.F! Our demands are simple. Give us the resources we need and no one has to die. we're not going to take enough to destroy anything but we will take a sizable amount so we don't have to come back for a while and in the meantime I'll gladly take care of any threats to your planet. (He reaches into his jacket and smoothly retrieves one of the flyers he had originall

He thought long and hard about it, and finally, he chose his three best warriors: Beta Jong, Gamma Arnold, and Delta Wilfie. Jong was the strongest warrior in the clan. He had a muscular build and a fierce determination in his eyes. Arnold was the fastest warrior in the clan. He could move with the speed of lightning, and he was always one step ahead of his opponents. Wilfie was the most skilled warrior in the clan. She was a master of all forms of combat, and she had a never-say-die attitude. The other clan leaders also chose their best warriors. The stage was set for the greatest werewolf battle competition in history.

Finally, the last wave consisting of elite werewolves of the Del Kingdom, attacked the city walls as they rode behind Melnyk the Conri, Zafira, and Peter the bulldog. Getting there, the sight of someone on the floor broke the heart of both Melnyk and Zafira, and it was Tyler that had a spear through his heart as he lay lifeless on the floor. Melnyk had grown fond of Tyler because of how close he was to Richard, now in the middle of this hiatus that was going on, Melnyk couldn't help but wonder how Richard would feel and cope with the loss of his beta, Tyler. Melnyk decided to channel his grief toward the humans that stood in front of him. He jumped down from his horse, changing into a gigant