Wyrm Book Novels & Stories

The title sent shivers through me: 'Dark Powers, Secrets of the Werewolves'. I opened the book, and a strange glow emanated from the pages. I felt a sudden jolt, like a surge of electricity had passed through me. The room began to spin, and I fell to the ground, the book slipping from my grasp. As I struggled to get up, I heard the old woman's voice, urgent and worried. 'Ryker! Ryker, what's wrong?' She rushed into the room, her eyes scanning me frantically. Then her gaze fell upon the book, and her expression changed to one of alarm. 'Oh, no. You shouldn't have touched that.'

Fenrir spoke, diverting my attention. “That was fast.” I spoke. “Of course, I’m actually useful.” He spoke, giving Damon a death glare. “I’m listening.” I said. “When you mentioned the entity being a shadow or rather a dark shadow that granted wishes in exchange for souls I thought that sounded familiar—anciently familiar.” He pulled out a book, “Hey, librarian, know about this?” The book was old, with the back pages already peeling off. It read in bold, vintage font, “Elemental Werewolves: The Curse of The Dragon.”

She asked, opening the book and beginning to flip through it. "The book can't be here," he said. "Where should it be then?" She questioned. She read through the pages of the book; there was a map on it. She closed the book to check the title. The book was titled 'Lunar Crest.' She smiled—just what she was looking for. She checked the outline of the book; there was no heading titled "hybrid" nor any mention of hybrids. "Werewolves have a king, right?" Ashford answered her question with a question.

After the boys had left my room, I went through my bag and pulled out my favorite book, Night Flame, by Catherine Hart. I sat back in my chair by the window, prepared to spend the rest of the afternoon reading when a shiver ran down my spine. I jumped out of my seat and spun around to see a pair of yellow eyes glowing in the corner of the room. As those eyes drew closer to me, I realized that it was Simon, the fae that came to warn me the other day.

I found it burdensome, overwhelming, and intimidating. The position of Verso Witch was so much more my style. I knew about magic and healing. I’d been raised around the healing aspect all of my life and I took to the magical side of things like a fish to water, despite the vampire obstruction. I was still adjusting to being a vampire as well as learning how to use my magic to its fullest. I didn’t want to stop my lessons. My exposure to Sybil’s mutant-vampire world was minimal, and even less to Charles’s vampires. How could I rule kingdoms I knew nothing about and even despised? Surely there were others better suited for the positions.

“That’s right. Wyrms. I received a letter from him yesterday about it. He wrote it the day after you left, and a lot of things happened without your knowledge since you happened to leave too early. So how about that?” After she left? Wyrms, she thought. Wyrms—like the one she had stopped from attacking the children recruits on their First Run in the Gauntlet. There had been something strange about it all from the very beginning. An adult wyrm on the desert fringes was unheard of, and when she had returned, the Emperor had asked her such strange questions about it. It had been so absurd that she had chased it out of her memory until now, but… “I know how to keep my mouth shut when I need to,”

Power will change, Revenge will change But the only thing that will not change will be . . . The Resurrection of the Thunder wolf. Next book titled : Thunder wolf ( book 2)

"This isn't just some legend, is it? It's real. The Wyrm is beneath us." Veyra's fingers traced the contours of the ancient painting, her mind racing as the pieces fell into place. The Order had been servants of something far darker than they had let on. The Wyrm of Rot was no simple monster—it was a parasite, a creature that fed not on flesh or blood, but on the very essence of life itself. It had infected the earth long ago, rooting itself deep in the bowels of the world, waiting for the right moment to awaken.

The Pack comes into view and I whip my neck back to call, “Welma!” Welma has been containing the survivors left in my Pack with the spell she’s been casting. So as I call out to her, I let her know my Chimera is about to unleash her flames of terror upon the black fold beneath us. She’ll be able to enforce her barriers using her mother’s help and while we attack, the survivors won’t get caught up in the malicious inferno. Right on cue, my Chimera bellows in her mighty roars that shake the atmosphere and rattle the ominous blanket. In her vicious loud cry, a ginormous blast of inky black flames gushes out in a powerful surge.

Billy just shook his head at me as I walked away, looking for more places that I could help. A little later, I was looking around and saw no conflict anywhere, so I asked Grandma Abby, “I would really like to go pick some blackberries.” Grandma smiled, “You could do that. Winnie already cast the spell on you to keep dark magic from being used on you. Just keep some daggers on you.” I smiled, “On it.” I grabbed a bucket from the kitchen and walked out the back door. I was picking blackberries and dancing around to the music playing from my one ear bud in my ear. I was trying to keep one ear open as I worked and danced at the same time. I was looking around frequently, making sure that there w