Wolves Books Fiction Novels & Stories

TRINITY The books Alpha Nader had given me were thicker than I expected, their cracked spines and yellowed pages holding the weight of centuries-old knowledge. Sitting cross-legged on my bed, I carefully turned the pages of the first book, The Myths of the Lunar Wolves, my fingers brushing over the faded ink. The white wolf. Its image was sketched across one of the pages—a regal creature with fur like snow and eyes that burned like molten amber. The description beneath it told of its rarity, its power, and its connection to the moon goddess herself.

The journal tumbled from the table, and the pages fluttered open like wings in the breeze. My eyes fell on the exposed words, and despite my hesitation, curiosity gripped me. I picked up the leather-bound book and began reading. It wasn’t a diary as I had initially assumed but a record of the history of the land. The North and South Kingdoms had long been divided, and each kingdom had its own ruler. As I skimmed through the lines, my heart raced. I reached a section detailing an ancient tribe of wolves—the Andals and the Nine Wolves. They were described as powerful, mystical wolves, thought to be extinct, who once lived in harmony with the moon and the stars. They were the guardians of a pow

I went to the inner room to check for a book that could be of help at all. In the dim light of the library hall, I wandered through the aisles, my fingers trailing along different volumes of books. The air was thick with the scent of dusty and old paper. As I turned a corner, an old, leather-bound book caught my eye. Its name cover was wrapped with strange design that seemed to shimmer faintly from the rest. It was the eyes of the rarest species of werewolves...... The white wolves. Curiosity got the better of me, I pulled the book from the shelf and opened it.

Annie spent the rest of the afternoon catching up on some work for the following week as Hugh lay on the sofa reading the book that he had borrowed from her house, he found the chapter on Werewolves and started to read. “You sell this in the human world?” asked Hugh. “It tells them everything about us, how to hurt and kill us, isn’t that dangerous?” Annie looked round at him. “No, that book was published by wolf publishers for the wolf world. I wrote two versions, one for us and one for the humans.” “There are wolf publishers?” he looked surprised.

Too quiet. Rosa, Dickson, Lycan, and I walked side by side, weapons drawn. “No birds,” Rosa said. “No tracks either,” Dickson added. “That’s not normal.” Lycan sniffed the air. “They’re here.” We stopped near a clearing. That’s when we saw them. Three dead wolves. Not killed by humans. Not by blades. But torn apart. Clawed. Bitten. “We need to go back,” I whispered. “Now.”

I slowly sat down on the ground even though it was hard. The black wolf attacked Reginald, he move backward to avoid the attacked, they’re running from the distance and for an instance Reginald attacked the black wolf using his talons from his paws. Uncounted attacked that he made and he bite the enemy to the neck. Wanted to get rid of the black wolf from him but Reginald was stronger he didn't give the enemy a chance to retaliate until the black wolf gradually lost consciousness and the black wolf bathing on his own blood to the ground. It looks like his head will be detached to his neck.

But instead of old stories from my grandmother’s life, the pages were scrawled with strange symbols and sketches—shorthand in her handwriting explaining the purpose of different runes and sigils. Flipping through the pages, there were sketches of wolves, and the last page that she’d written in had a detailed rendition of a nightmarish wolf-beast that made my blood run cold at the sight of it, it’s eyes smudged over with charcoal in the shape of a protective rune. My heart raced when I realized what I was holding. This was no ordinary journal, it was a spell book.

Huge is an understatement of how the library looks. “You're cute.” Billie says, looking at me softly. I ignore her and run to the first section of books. They are so pretty laid out that I don't want to stain them with my touch. I've found my spot here. “Where can I find books on wolves?” “Come with me,” Billie leads us to another section at the end of the library. I wonder why it's this far. “Humans with wolves are called werewolves and werewolves are blessed with a second half which are called soulmates,” she plucks out different books and places them on the small coffee table.

’ He sniffled. ‘Maybe I can find a way to fix that, too,’ I muttered, scanning the pages of an ancient, dusty book I’d found buried in Moon Chasm’s library. I didn’t find anything. There were old fairy tales, so old they barely seemed recognisable anymore, that spoke of affronted gods casting down their children and making the first wolves. Some were classic tales, like the one about three pups going too near a river and being turned into toads to save them from drowning; others were cautionary tales, warning young wolves away from humans and forbidding any sort of romances between us and them – all in a fun, rhyming sort of way, of course.

We are left alone and I lay down so the twins are between us and they all 3 falls asleep. I need to go find that book and put it away. Find the books with facts about blessed wolves. We need the facts, not the stories about how they were used and kept captives. We all know how cruel our species can be when there is something we want. Or maybe we should just burn all books. And just wait and see what will happen in the future.