Wyatt Werewolf Novels & Stories

He spat in front of Dantley. Danley raised his gaze and he said, "Have you ever heard of a story about a werewolf, idiot?" It was Dantley who asked calmly. "Werewolves? That fictional creature? Not just werewolves, spider-men, bats, even ant-men, but they're all just in books, hahahah!" He burst out laughing, then said again, "Are you a werewolf ha?" Dantley smiled wryly, "Yes. I'm a werewolf!"

“No more. I can’t take any more right now.” He lifted his head and grinned wickedly at me. “Alright, I’ll leave your clit alone. But I mean to mount you, little wolf. I’m done waiting.” * * * Finally, my Big Bad Werewolf was done waiting. He pushed my thighs open as far as they would go and he mounted me. His cock was massive and he had to rock his hips back and forth to holster himself, inch-by-inch. The she-wolf in me had completely surrendered to him, I got no say in the matter, apparently.

change. It was a grotesque, beautiful horror. Bones snapped and elongated. Skin rippled as fur retreated into pores. In a matter of seconds, three naked, panting men stood in the dirt, their bodies covered in scars and fresh, bleeding gashes. "He’s losing his grip, boys," one of the men spat, wiping blood from his mouth. "An Alpha who can't control his hunger for a human girl is a liability." The black wolf—Zayden—didn't shift. He stood his ground, a low, earth-shaking growl vibrating through his massive chest. His golden eyes locked onto the men, a silent promise of death.

"How do you feel?" "Are you okay?" I ignored her question with one of my own. Her eyes shifted to my figure before looking back down on her own and shrugging. "I guess it's better than a mausoleum." My eyes cast downward. "Sorry, bad joke." "Did I hurt you last night?" "No. But...has this happened before?" "When you get to a certain age as a wolf, it's a rite of passage to experience it. I guess kind of like a human's sixteenth birthday or maybe their twenty-first. They do it so we understand what it's like in case we ever encounter it."

I hesitated to tell her more, but it would be better if I got it all out. “Hope, there’s more,” I said. She immediately looked wary. “I know I said I was ready for your secrets, but I’m not sure I really am,” she confessed. “This one is a good one,” I said with a smile, praying that she would see it that way. She looked at me expectantly. “Werewolves get their wolf at eighteen. After that, their wolf is always looking for their mate. We mate with just one wolf, someone that the moon goddess picked for us. It’s called fated mates.”

Lyall growled harshly. “Easy… I didn’t come here to fight or cause trouble,” the witch said. Lyall looked at him with a searching gaze. His hair was long past his shoulders, her clothes resembled a long black dress, and she wore a black cloak as well. But the witch was a man. A hybrid wolf approached and growled at him. Lyall turned and growled too. Lyall turned to the witch and growled, demanding that he leave. Lyall attacked the hybrid wolf. The hybrid wolves weren’t as strong as the Rogues. They were strong as vampires but not as wolves, so Lyall was able to defeat them easily.

" he asks firmly. "I don't know, I just got out," I try to explain but he is not having it. He grabs me by the collar of Alanis's T shirt and pulls me until we are out of the house and in front of Alby Crix's house. Alby is the oldest wolf in out pack and he is the wisest. He has all the answers. Werewolves get old, we can live for 1000 years or more but at a point we start ageing. Which almost makes us like humans.

A bruise was already blooming along her cheekbone where Lira’s fist had grazed her. He took her injured arm in careful hands. “Hold still.” He leaned in and, without warning, licked the wounds. Elara gasped. The contact was warm, wet, strangely intimate. She felt the faint rasp of his tongue, then something else, warmth spreading, tingling, numbing the worst of the pain. “What are you...” “Werewolf saliva,” he murmured against her skin. “Heals faster than anything human. Especially for mates.” He continued, slow, deliberate strokes of his tongue along each cut. The bleeding slowed. The edges began to knit together before her eyes.

he admitted. “Wyatt has three forms.” I let them know and the witches stared at each other. Zoey stood and dragged the other two into the kitchen unaware of the fact we could hear everything. Wyatt sat on the opposite side of the bed and pulled the hair away from her neck spilling it over the pillows. “What dose he mean between 3 forms?” Trent’s voice asked. “Wyatt is a man, a wolf, and a Rougarou,” Zoey said simply. “Technically, if you remember the gala so dose Bri now. A wolf a witch and her darkness,” Andrew pointed out.

Being a key collector had to be the hardest thing ever. "Hey, look!" Liana stopped walking and turned off her flashlight. "That's Dylan's cabin." Dylan Ineroy was one of the most desired young men in town. He was not rich but was hardworking and very handsome. He had a perfect body with well defined muscles that weren't huge. His rugged looks made every girl want to be with him although he did not seem to be into romance. Also, he was rarely seen which made him mysterious and that was a major point in his favour. Every girl wanted to be the one who finally changed his heart.