Wolfhound Squad Novels & Stories

Her wolf purred softly beneath her skin. Together. Always together. --- By mid-morning, the first wave reached the northern ridge. Wolves shifted into position silently, moving like shadows, blending with the forest. The Council’s attack was coordinated—wolves in perfect formation, some fully shifted, others partially human, all trained to overwhelm with precision. Lunaria stepped forward, silver light flaring around her hands, pulsing with the valley’s energy. Wards ignited along the ridges, forming invisible barriers that redirected and slowed the attackers. Wolves trained under her direction struck strategically, driving enemies back while avoiding unnecessary fatalities.

Just get rid of everything that was so pressing and getting on your nerves. Which is what I did. White Porsche Cayenne Vadim again flaunted his greatness, and beckoning to a further plan of action. The only thing I did not take into account was two hefty mules who stepped out of the darkness and blocked my path. With a height of at least two meters, and in the shoulders no worse than Rinat, the werewolves demonstrated by their very appearance that it was better not to mess with them. The familiar cut of black formal suits over white shirts, as well as the fact that I saw them for the first time, made it clear that they were Yang's people. Both are black-eyed and dark-haired. Black wolves.

It felt calm and peaceful. Suddenly, there was a rumbling sound behind the trees and grass. Leah's instincts were strong. She felt that someone was watching her. She thought it was Paul. When she turned around, she was surprised to see a pack of wolves surrounding her. "Who are you?" one of the wolves asked. Leah was astonished to hear that the wolves could speak like humans. They approached Leah and scared her. "Don't come any closer, I don't want to hurt any of you," Leah warned.

they said with a little fear of their voice but again the clown head laughed. "Of all the werewolves here in howling Island he is the only one different, don't make the mistake of trying angry the werewolf who possessed those spiral crimson eyes because otherwise, even your soul will not survive" all of them stunned of what the clown head said. Maybe they know of what she pointing but still don't want to believe. I wonder who he really is? Why he's the only one who possessed those spiral crimson on his golden eyes? Why he is the most different?

Rendall asked as we saw the arrow hit its leg and growl in pain. “He has company,” I calmly muttered and prepare my spear for the hunt. After saying those words 10 more werewolves appeared in all directions, blocking our sight with their huge bodies and all of them seem to have the same brown hair. “Is it the whole pack from Domlur?” “No, I don’t think so.” Werewolves growl as they slowly walk with their claws ready to slash everything or everyone on its way. We, on the other hand, are prepared to do everything. The werewolf that was shot by Quinn using her arrow slowly fell to the ground making its comrades look at us with hatred and disgust.

Wolves scrambling for weapons, parents trying to get children to safety, my enhanced fighters trying to organize a defense despite being undermanned with four of our best down. Elena was already barking orders, her experience as a former program operative showing. "North perimeter, reinforce that fence! Medical personnel, prepare for casualties! Non-combatants to the bunkers!" "How many?" I asked, joining her. "Scout reports say at least two hundred wolves. Multiple pack insignias, Blackwood, Silvermoon, Crescent Moon, others we don't recognize." Elena's face was grim. "They've formed a coalition. Seraphina must have convinced them you're a threat to all packs."

By midday, four of the eleven identified erasers had been neutralised. Ruel, formally contracted now and operating from a confirmed workspace in Silverfang's secondary building, ran an intelligence update on Jade's force composition at ten in the morning. The breakdown was specific: sixty-three Conclave remnants with Hunter-chemistry exposure, the most dangerous element. Eighty-nine displaced wolves from the northern community and eastern corridor, most of whom had functional pack training but limited combat experience. Forty wolves whose affiliation was unclear, sourced from networks that Ruel didn't have full visibility into.

Only Kate, standing just off my shoulder, knew the truth. Camerin unrolled the assignment lists and began calling names. “First squad, eastern ridge patrol, you'll rotate in pairs, eyes sharp. Second squad, you’ll sweep the southern sector.” His voice carried like steel, calm, commanding. Micah stepped forward to reinforce. “Scouts will move ahead and report any signs of unusual movement. No straying from the assigned paths. You’ll rotate through the night. Fresh eyes every few hours.” The wolves nodded, some smirking, some flexing their claws as if eager to stretch their strength. They didn’t realize the game had already changed.

Her call is an echo on the wind, a summons to battle that cannot be ignored. Beside her appears a pair of wolves, Aoron and Eta. They connect with the werewolves, seeking compatible partners amidst the pack. Together, they unleash a powerful howl and charge towards the Drider. They attack from all directions, their claws and teeth deadly weapons that tear and rend. Gradually, they manage to break all the Drider's legs, incapacitating it.

No guards, no wards, no sign of someone who expects to be found. Our team is eight wolves, borrowed from Catherine's Silverpine pack, and they move quietly through the dark without needing to be told how. I stay in the center of the formation where Donovan positioned me and I don't argue about it because my ribs are providing their own argument on his behalf. We go in at midnight.