A Valiant Life Novels & Stories

one said, a little short of breath, “we learn fast. We want more.” Valen looked at the new wolves. He felt pride. He put a rough hand on the young man’s shoulder. “You worked hard,” he told him. “Keep going. You will see how far you can go.” People praised him as they passed. “Valen is tough but fair,” a woman said. “He makes us stronger.” “He made this place alive again,” an old man added. “Before him, we hid. Now we stand.”

Interrupting something important before it's finished gives you an incomplete version, and I don't want that. He tells me about her fight against Parliament. How she fought as a dhampir running from hunters, as a full vampire organizing resistance, as someone who understood what the system was doing to her community and decided that understanding required responding. He tells me about her refusing to be a victim—that specific quality that comes through in every version of the Valentina stories Dante and Isla tell, the quality of someone who was given difficult things and didn't perform the difficulty but addressed it and kept moving.

No will to live. All I wanted was for someone to rip my heart out of my chest because I no longer had the strength to do so myself. I had tried. I tried to reach inside and end it, but without my wolf, I was powerless. Val had saved my life more times than I could count, and I couldn’t save his. I did not want him to go out there; I was afraid, but I let him go. I let him persuade me when I should have said no. I should have fought harder. I should have known better. Now my Val was gone. The love of my life, my mate, was gone.

The material of his clothes was stretched tight over his skin almost like it was too small for him. "You didn't even notice." I blinked and then looked down at my plate. True enough, he had switched our plates and I hadn't even noticed. "Oh." “I’m Valiant.” He held his hand out toward me. I stared at the dark ink peeking out from under the sleeve of his suit. Without realizing it, I leaned closer to get a better look. Valiant chuckled. “I’ll need to take my shirt off for you to get a better look at it.” Colour flooded my cheeks. I jerked back in my seat and picked up my fork to stuff some lettuce in my mouth.

Matteo. The tension in the air was thick enough to choke on, her defiance clashing against my anger in a storm as volatile as the one raging above us. I barely noticed Reed, who moved slightly, as if debating whether to step between us. Smart decision not to. “I know exactly how dangerous it is,” Valentina said, her voice trembling but steady. “But I can’t sit in your safe houses and do nothing while my life is spiralling out of control, and yours was in danger.”

Still, the sight of her, blood and rain on her brow, blades in hand, moved some current inside him that was not anger. Valentina fought like a woman who had rebuilt herself out of ash. She wove between the estate’s servants and hired killers with a confidence that made the men who came for her hesitate. She did not seek spectacle; she sought function. She killed the lieutenant who would have coordinated reinforcements with a clean shot and a softer blade — a choice that would leave no witnesses for Cruz to manipulate.

He asked, taking a notebook and pen in his hands. "It was so-so, good and bad both." Val says, and shrugged her shoulders. "Why good and why bad? Explain to me." James asked, writing down everything she said. "It was good because….I spent time with my family. And bad because…I fought with many people today." Val said, tapping on her chin. "Hmm, why do you fight with people?" James again questions, looking her into her eyes. "I killed some goons because they kidnapped, raped and killed girls." Valencia said, her eyes darkened as she mentioned them.

My eyes met his, and he gave a small smile. "I will not investigate just how weak your alpha potential is as that is not my business. But if your wolf can not stand mine, you have no chance here. We fight shit out in here. For food, for survival. And I am not exactly the strongest. Take the scraps, or risk that pretty face. We don't know mercy, Kian. We know war. We know blood. You get me?" I nodded slowly. Is that... perhaps, how Valerian died? Because he tried to climb up the ranks? Because he tried to defy the norms?

she replied as she pounced and shifted mid flight, her front paws landed on his throat as her hind legs kicked at his abdomen, she felt one of his organs burst under the pressure, she assumed it was his bladder as by the time she had removed her claws from his torn out throat his blue Jean’s were soaked from the waist down. Valaria took no notice of any panther that dared to come near her, her pack was dealing with the soldiers, she wanted the general, she wanted the Kings head on her wall, she stayed In her Ursal form as she navigated the highly strategic assault her wolf family were delivering but before she made it to her father Lucian stepped into her path, “Valaria, stop this, no more w

Valen laughed humorlessly at him, then she clicked her tongue loudly before asking, “How can you even say that?” “Are you happy with your life? Are you contented?” he asked, his voice sounding calm and composed which rendered Valen speechless. “I can see it in your eyes that you are lost.” “So? What is it to you then if I am lost?” “I can help you.” “I don’t need your help,” she said simply and began turning her back on him, but Johnny was quick to stop her by holding her arm gently. “Believe me, my intention is genuine. It’s because I feel like my purpose for living is through guiding others. Let me help you, Val. Tell me, what is that something you wish to do with your life?”