The Millennium Wolves 2 の小説・ストーリー

My eyes are fixed at the sky when I hear commotion somewhere far. I snap my head in that direction and see two wolves, one of them quite identical. A white wolf with blue eyes and a brown Alpha Wolf. Mathew Cullen and Miracle far away from their territory and border. I watch them from afar, it’s clear that they are talking through their mindlink. While they are talking, my eyes notice rogues approaching from the other side of the mountain which leads down the canyon. My body stays still, my eyes watching the whole scene unfolding. Slowly, it all starts to fall apart. Miracle and Matthew notice the rogues and they are quick to fight.

He was stunning, I allowed white wolves were defunct. There hasn't been a sighting of a white wolf in times. perhaps this pack is more special than they realise. He whined and nudged his conk under my nib. I suppose he was asking if I was ok because I am not in his pack, he can not link me. I bobbed my huge head and he plodded back out to the others. Mila was stood in her fine slate wolf with Mateo's spurt black wolf rubbing his fur each over her. He was scenting his mate, wards others off and shows she has a mate. It's relatively cute. Werewolves are veritably territorial, kinda like a sprat with their favourite toy and someone tries to take it. kiddies throw explosions and werewolves are n

“Rafael… Rafael’s army has arrived.” Killian’s forces tried to regroup, but before they could, another wave of wolves appeared. This time, they came from the south. Leading them was a massive red wolf, its fur blazing like fire under the bright sun. The wolf stood on a rocky outcrop, her stance commanding as she let out a powerful howl. The sound echoed across the battlefield, sharp and clear, like a command. Half of Killian's army froze at that, their movements stopping as if held by invisible chains. She howled again, louder this time, and something incredible happened—the warriors turned toward her. Slowly, they bowed, then, without hesitation, rushed to join her side.

“Perimeter breach, northwest corner. Three signatures—wolves, inbound.” “On it,” I growl, signaling Ruth. We sprint, boots silent on the grass, the mansion looming like a dark sentinel. The air shifts—fur, sweat, the copper bite of intent. They’re here, testing us. I shift partial, claws extending, eyes sharpening. One wolf lunges from the shadows, jaws snapping; I meet him mid-air, slamming him into the fence with a crunch. Ruth takes the second, her snarl echoing; Marco grapples the third, silver blade flashing.

she finished with a smile. Milo lapped the room in excitement and stopped at the window to look outside. The fields and forest were illuminated by the moon, showing several familiar wolves patiently waiting outside. He had never been let out to run with the other wolves unless it was to be used as their prey when they were restless. Thanks to the shot of wolfsbane and a blindfold, Milo never had a fair chance. “This will be different! Let’s go,” he yipped happily, bounding for the open door with Tessa at his heels.

Her call is an echo on the wind, a summons to battle that cannot be ignored. Beside her appears a pair of wolves, Aoron and Eta. They connect with the werewolves, seeking compatible partners amidst the pack. Together, they unleash a powerful howl and charge towards the Drider. They attack from all directions, their claws and teeth deadly weapons that tear and rend. Gradually, they manage to break all the Drider's legs, incapacitating it.

The weight in the air stole the words right out of their lungs. Then—crackling. Soft at first. Then growing. A low, eerie hum that crawled across the back of her neck. It was fire. And it was light. And it was alive. They turned. And everything else vanished. There, in the middle of the scorched battlefield, stood two figures so blindingly impossible that the world itself seemed to hold its breath. Two wolves. But not like anything they’d ever seen—not even in dreams. The first—massive, towering, wrapped in fire so pure it bled gold. Every movement of his fur sparked with flame, not chaotic but controlled, deliberate, powerful. His eyes were blue. Deep and endless. Familiar. Burning. Atlas.

Chapter 114: The morning’s light broke over the battlefield with a fierce intensity, as if the sun itself had risen to witness the final act of this bitter conflict. The Blue Moon Pack’s defenses, though battered by the relentless assaults of the exiled werewolves, still held firm. Every wolf was on high alert, hearts pounding in unison as the enemy’s forces began to press their advantage in a desperate bid for victory. The air was charged with the electric mix of adrenaline and grief—a solemn promise that every sacrifice made would lead to redemption.

“You could end it, you know. Pick a winner. Let them live.” I snort. If only it were that easy. “Find me one who can last past the third sunrise, and maybe I’ll consider it.” Her presence flickers in front of me, like a whisp of smoke. “You’ve gone soft. I can smell it on you.” “Must be your imagination. The only thing soft here is the ground after the corpses hit it.” She chuckles and fades, leaving the back of my skull blessedly empty. I straighten, scanning the new arrivals. A witch crying into her hands. Two wolves are already posturing for dominance. A human, brave or stupid, probably both, trying to look like she belongs. Typical.

I laughed as he jumped at me again, and I grabbed him by his leg and tossed him to the ground. "I remember this one time, the two of you decided that you wanted to beat on this one pack wolf. See, he was weak at the time because his wolf had tucked themselves away. What you didn't expect after you tossed him from that cliff and down into the gorge, was for him to come back to life." I moved toward the wolf, aware of another coming up behind me. While the murderer before me was climbing to his feet, I quickly spun around and snapped the neck of the other wolf who had just joined us.