Wolfless Novels & Stories

Real wolves. The Prince's opponent is a wolf with fur the same color as his hair; pure copper. The golden eyes seem to shine as it stares at the other with fangs bared in clear threat. The nails in silver claws. And he still holds the spear in his hand, ready to attack. He has a body posture like the man he once was, yet animalistic. I'm shaking, confused and curious. My eyes burn from the long time without blinking, but I'm surprised by a third beep that makes me close my eyes.

His forehead rests against hers. “Please,” he begs, voice hoarse and breaking. “Please, just breathe. Just… just breathe.” His wolf presses against the surface of his skin, frantic, feral, and howling with a grief so raw it nearly knocks me to my knees. The woman does not move. Her skin is pale. Too pale. Blood stains the stone beneath her, spreading in dark, branching patterns like roots. Kael presses his ear to her chest. Once, twice, and then a third time.

Wolfless. A fate in a pack considered worse than death. “Father,” I hear Raven cry out as she scrambles to my side, taking my uncut hand in hers, jamming it into mine and interlocking her fingers tightly. “We can’t let Freya go.” “She doesn’t belong here,” my father’s voice softened. Not for my sake, but for hers. “Freya is my best friend,” Raven insisted. “Mother is right, she is family. She can’t help that this happened, she didn’t ask to be this way.”

"Can't even defend herself." "Of course she can't," Elena replied. "Wolfless wolves are broken. They have just enough wolf DNA to mark them as pack, but not enough to function. They're worse than humans because they're a corruption of what we are. A mistake of nature that should have been culled at birth."

Alpha’s name appeared on the board last. He walked toward the center of the hall, muscles tense, heartbeat calm. Across from him, a rival stood—a tall, broad-shouldered werewolf named Kael, one of the top Alpha candidates already glowing with dominance. His amber eyes narrowed. “You’re the weakling they let in?” Kael sneered. “I’ll make this quick.” Alpha said nothing. He didn’t need to. The bell rang. Combat began. Kael lunged, claws extended. Instinct screamed in Alpha’s chest—but his wolf stayed silent. The system had locked all his reflexive power. He barely dodged, knees scraping the stone. Pain burned, and Kael grinned.

He paused, his eyes scanning my face for any sign of understanding. “I couldn't help but laugh, I guess either I'm hearing things or I'm not the only crazy one in the room.” Zayn stepped closer, his movements deliberate and careful, as if I might bolt at any moment. “You’re a wolf,” he said, his voice steady. “You always have been. You just didn’t know it yet.” I burst out in laughter once again, sharp and bitter, verging on hysteria. “You’re insane. This is insane.”

He licked his lips, "What? What are you...," "I can't go back up there with your shirt or your scent is gonna keep lingering around there. Remember we don't want anyone to find out about you yet?" "So you're just gonna go back up there naked?" "Oh, it's normal. Wolves move around like this all the time. Especially the men. During the winter, they're even shirtless. The cold doesn't bother us at all," "Normal?" He groaned, "So how many people have seen you naked?" "Probably a lot,"

Warriors fell before they could shift. The air thickened with wolfsbane, choking them, killing them. “IT’S AN AMBUSH!” someone screamed. Nicolas barely had time to react. A silver net landed on him, burning his skin on contact. He screamed, his wolf howling inside—but the silver held him down. “NICOLAS!” Zaiya screamed. She shifted, her sleek black wolf leaping at the enemy. Her claws tore through armor, her fangs found flesh. One down. Then another.

She wore a floral dress and turquoise jewelry and she looked at the house on Whitfield Lane with the sharp, assessing eyes of a woman who had been seeing the future for forty years and was now looking at the present she'd set in motion. "Three stories," she said. "Brick. Garden. Nice." "Thanks, Mom." "Which one is the wolf?" Josie blinked. "How did you." "The windows. Wolf lords like high windows. They like to see out without being seen. It's a denning instinct." Vangie walked into the house like she owned it. She looked at the kitchen. The heavy oak table. The new espresso machine that didn't scream. "And the bull likes to cook. I can smell it. Garlic. Rosemary. He's Polish?"

USELESS! He rumbled inside his thoughts and exhaled heavily. Crossing his arms behind his back, he replied to her meaningfully, " I have done it already. Tomorrow the entire Wolverton World is going to know how the famous king, Radolf Wolfshon tortures his slave to death who is innocent and isn't at fault."