Wolfs Dungeon Novels & Stories

she replies as she gives me, and I told you so look. “ That’s my kind of girl,” Michael says, again kissing Rebecca’s hand. “So you come for some answers, what do you want to know, maybe I can help?” He asks as he looks at me. I gave him a look and showed him to a private, both out of earshot. Sitting down each with our drinks, I began telling him about everything that happened and what Melicent said. “It’s almost unbelievable, you know that, right? I knew only of one white wolf that looked like that. She was the Luna of the Misty Moon pack but died a few years back when rouges ripped out her heart, but I have some contacts and if there is one, we will find her” as he stands up looking at Re

Pack members are out with enchanted fire-spells and iron shovels, clearing the main roads before the blizzard traps the territory. I hail a hired wolf-carriage at the edge of the district, my heart hammering against my ribs as the driver whips the black beasts into a gallop toward the central administrative grounds of the Whitlock Moonfang Dominion. When I arrive at the guild hall, the warm scent of burning cedar and parchment greets me. I bypass the main reception and head straight for the upper R&D chambers where our human-werewolf integration projects are housed.

Nodding, stubbornly not raising her eyes to Maxim, she tried to calm down and really eat. After dinner, and having removed all the containers from under the food, we packed our things, got dressed and settled down side by side on the sofa. There was very little left before the departure, and Maxim continued the story about the Central Church. It turns out that there was a well under it, going deep into the bowels of the earth, and it was he who was the most powerful source of power werewolves on the planet. It was therefore easy for the creators to contact werewolves and influence their gift. - Once every twenty years, the well must be strengthened, and if necessary, then punched again, - an

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.

Put that child down and don't be stupid. The scene changed again to what looked like a dark room and in that room Delilha could see the shape of a wolf standing there. It was beautiful with midnight blue fur and amber eyes it towered over six feet. It was whimpering and she could clearly see why. Steel chains connected to the wall ending in a bolt was placed on the wolfs neck, hind legs and front legs. The door to the dungeon opened and Delilah stepped inside with what looked like whip with nails attcahes to the end.

They got to the door, Alphose stepped forward and opened it. It was dark inside. Degar walked in first, going straight to the sconces, and lit the flaming torch to all of them, which in turn brightened the room all of a sudden. No, not a room. It looks more like a dungeon-room. A very big dungeon. Metal rods from floor to ceiling demarcated the room into two. Behind the metal rods, is a white wolf. It is smaller, like five-foot-four—it was raging and aggressive, howling and throwing itself at the bars of the cell over and over and over again.

I huffed, making my way towards the door. "Wrong way," he said, causing me to halt. How could this be the wrong way when it's the only door in here? "We're taking the back way to keep you away from the other wolves. Also, the name's Blake, not warlock." I turned to see a small, almost friendly smirk on his face as he pushed a large mirror aside, revealing a hidden door made of the same cream-colored brick as the wall. It would be impossible to discern it as a door if Blake hadn't opened it himself. The corridor was narrow and dimly lit, but Blake used an orange crystal to ignite a torch, casting a warm glow to light our path. He led me down a winding flight of stairs and through a damp hallw

“Where is she? In chains? Locked up in some kind of castle somewhere with dragons around?” “This isn’t a Disney movie.” “Of course it’s not. That’s what I’m asking. Where is she?” He looked at us, then smiled. “She’s in the dungeon, isn’t she?” I heaved a heavy sigh as he nodded his head slowly. “I thought so. Dungeon it is. We wolves love our dungeon, don’t we? We love to keep creatures that we find dangerous or unappealing away from our sights. And the best way to do it is placed in a cold, dark dungeon somewhere, possibly at the back of the pack where nobody goes. Leave them to nature, but locked up in a cold room.

The dungeon was filthy and foul, with dried blood stains left behind by the various forms of torture methods that were employed that splattered on the walls and flooring. Some wolves will vomit or foam, which is disgusting to kneel over and scrub. When you combine that with the putrid stench of the feral rogues who were imprisoned and who were constantly howling and screeching never-ending, it could pang one’s hearing into going deaf.

The wolf jumped again towards the Cursed until they were slammed into a tree. Hugo's breath jolted out, his gaze turned angry. Aryadi grunted in front of his enemy's face while sticking his claws into the man's chest. Hugo shouted out once. His body trembled for a moment before yawning and quickly turning into a wolf in red fur. Aryadi the black wolf gave a startled voice. Hugo took advantage of that split second by throwing the wolf Aryadi's body. Aryadi was thrown several fathoms while Hugo stood tall in his form as a wolf proudly.