Wolf Fantasy Novelas e Histórias

The muzzle of the wolf, grinning and splashing with saliva, clicked in the face of the man, while Ar chuckled contentedly, throwing off his turn. - Well, shall we dance? - mocking, repeated the words of Mark. “Let’s dance,” Mark repeated, stretching his lips into a bloody smile. Arnar sensed the approaching danger from behind and heard Vitali's cry: - Behind! — Violating the order to stay in the territory, he rushed to the rescue. The werewolf flew off, slamming like a stone wall into the body of the High Vampire that appeared out of nowhere. A sweetish aroma enveloped Arnar and forced him to exhale convulsively from the pain spreading in his back.

My heart skipped a beat as I took in the sight of the large, ethereal wolf standing there, its form shimmering like moonlight reflected on water. The wolf’s fur was a pure, radiant white, almost too bright to look at directly. As I watched, tiny points of light floated off its body, like stars falling from the night sky, only to merge back into its form moments later. It was as if the wolf was made entirely of light, a creature of pure energy and power.

It hit like a tidal wave, dragging me under all over again. I forced myself to stand, weak and shivering. As I turned toward the mirror, something caught my eye, just for a moment. My wolf was there, but not like any I’d ever seen, she was massive, jet black, darker than night, darker than death itself. Her eyes burned like fire, vivid orange flames dancing in a soulless void. I screamed and stumbled backward, crashing to the floor, my heart pounding like war drums. When I dared to look again, she was gone. Only my own reflection stared back, shaken. What are you? I thought, clutching my chest.

The metal clasped around the werewolf's neck, compelling it to revert to human form or risk being choked. Aria could go on about her father's inventions. There was the apostle, the crucifier, the soul keeper, the penance, and much more. Fighting the werewolfs had been a terrifying war. Their ability to transform, control fire, fly, and much more had made the humans helpless against them.

“The instability, the memory inconsistencies and her connection to the past. It’s all a liability, and that Is the last thing we can afford right now.” “Our proposal is simple.” The third, lady Mara, lifted a thin parchment. “We employ one of three solutions, a memory suppression, retraining, or a full binding ritual to neutralize her wolf entirely.” I held their gazes, every word scraping across my chest, and I hated how it was becoming harder to hold back my emotions by the minute. “Neutralize,” I repeated quietly. “You want to strip her will.” “We want to protect the pack,” Harrow countered, smiling as though that made it sound noble. “She’s unpredictable, and unpredictable wolves break t

Lucien muttered. I answered the call and pressed it closer to my ear. “I have something to tell you.” My mother’s trembling voice echoed from the other end of the line. I sat upright on the bed. “And what is that?” “It’s about your father. You didn’t discover your wolf all this time because he cast a spell to keep it hidden. You have a really powerful wolf and he saw you as a threat.” “Wait wait, this is a lot. What are you trying to say?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

Massive, covered in black fur, with talons that sparked against the stone. Then another hand. And then, pulling itself up from the dark, shaking the earth with every movement, came the Wolf. He was huge. Bigger than he had ever been. His fur was matted with the black ichor of the Void. His eyes weren't gold anymore. They were white, burning, blinding white. He climbed out of the hole. He stood on his hind legs, towering over Darius, towering over the warlocks, and towering over me. He threw his head back and howled.

"What do you want from me?" "I want to wake up." The First Wolf lowered his massive head until his eyes were level with hers. "I want to feel the sun on my fur again. I want to run through the forests and howl at the moon. I want to live, Elif Demir. Not just exist. Live." "Then wake up." "I cannot wake alone. I need a vessel. Someone willing to carry me inside them, to share their body and their life." His eyes burned brighter. "I need you."

He pulled himself up to standing, and even though there was a large patch of fur missing on his chest, and the burn was beginning to crust over, he snarled at me, as if to say he wasn’t giving up. Just then, the sound of footsteps in the woods on either side of the house caught my attention. I kept the new ball of fire in my hand and an eye on the lone attack wolf, but I could see more wolves arriving out of the woods. Four came from one direction, six from another. All of them had glowing eyes, but none of them were red. One was so old, I didn’t know how he was managing to keep up. His fur was a wiry gray, and he was scrawny with a limp. I could tell by looking at his face he did not want t

If he succeeded, he would be unstoppable… … but he didn’t, because in her reality in Fairbanks, Vak Smallchief is still known as the first werewolf in history and the only werewolf ancestor who receives 7 salutation howls on the nights of the Full Moon Feasts. Where did that leave Nikjin? “You are a beautiful sight to behold in wasteland such as this,” he said, appearing in front of her like an apparition.