A Warrior's Fate Novels & Stories

Prologue "Are you ok warrior?" A strong voice asked me. Was I ok? Will I ever be ok? After what happened here. My life is shattered. My soul had been ripped. My heart was split into two! No, I don't have a life now. There is no life left in me. There were lots of noise around me. Lots of cries, lots of blood, lots of debris. The man standing above me was still waiting for my reply. I was slumped on the ground, covered with dirt and blood, unable to look at my savior. Wouldn't it had been better, if he had not saved me. Maybe death was easier than the life I see ahead.

Jonah wrapped his arms around me from behind and chuckled softly. "Happy now?" I curved my lips. "Not exactly." He raised an eyebrow. "Really?" I turned to look at him and spoke slowly. "In this life, I want everyone to know that anyone who betrays me won't end well." Jonah smiled, a trace of admiration flashing in his eyes. "Alright. I'll stand by you." I was surprised. For some reason, Jonah was nothing like what Mona had described. Instead, he always appeared right when I needed him most.

Not many of his warriors were mates of the ones they rescued so other than the ones that were unfortunate enough not to fight to the best of their ability were killed, however, most of them took 4 or 5 enemy warriors with them, so it wasn’t a total loss. Just as Farris was down to the last warrior Lycan, he felt a twitch in his chest. He continued to fight, and he then felt as if someone was ripping his shoulder off. He managed to look and then duck the coming punch and kick combo from the Lycan warrior in front of him. Farris shakes it off and focuses back on the fight in front of him.

I'm made of sharp edges and vengeance, and I will not crumble. "Eleven years. You should be more informed," I snap. It's a foolish mistake to irritate a Warrior, but I'm tired of being undermined and treated as a disposable toy. He clenches his fists. He's the perfect impersonation of danger, and for the first time, I wonder who exactly I'm dealing with here. "Careful," the word barely escapes his gritted teeth. "We're done here. I will only answer to your Alpha," my voice comes out cold and detached.

I couldn’t dare watch as he was being ripped off Connor and taken away. When everything was over, the winds died down and as soon as I opened my eyes, they were all gone. Only the pack warriors were left, standing there in concern for us. Connor was on the ground, groaning. I had no idea how he was able to get out of the hospital bed, but that was a question for another day. Margery approached me, with tears in her eyes as the warriors cuffed her and took her away. “I’m sorry, my friend. I’m really sorry.”

He knew he do not follow all that they taught him, but still, what he did absorb kept him sane. He also knew that the Chief of Warriors of Mauraye was not going to be happy about this. He was on a retreat and would be on his way back now. He had not let him know because he didn't want the man to get hurt. But he knew if the chief warrior had anything to say about it, he will be here, with the wrath of a god. ----------- A fortnight later, the war began. It was brutal. Eloy was in the middle of it. The Kings themselves were just watching and observing.

Well, all but Jake, seeing as he doesn’t have his mate just yet. Following behind were a mass group of warriors. I had no clue of their names, but Gabe seemed to know them all, as I would expect him too, seeing as he worked with them. I guess I would get to know them all as time went on. I heard they had lost one of their guys whilst fighting the warriors at Crimson Night. Gabe was upset at this, and understandably so, so there was a slight sombre mood to the trip back, as they were speaking of his memorial service they planned to arrange.

"I will try." Luna's force departed first, thirty-three warriors moving at speed toward the western forest where smoke already rose to the sky. I watched them go, knowing some would not return. My own team assembled quickly. Twenty warriors, mostly veterans who understood suicide missions. We carried light armor and weapons designed for speed over protection. "Move out," I commanded. As we ran toward the eastern border where Garrett waited with his hostage, I felt Aria's anguish through the mate bond. She stood on the wall watching us leave, torn between duty and family.

"I’ve traveled the world. Been to weird, creepy places, but I always felt safe… And now you’re telling me there are werewolves all over the place?" She turned to face me again. "This is too much." Her voice cracked. "No, no, no…" She groaned and covered her face. "Now I don’t even wanna step outside my apartment!" Despite the chaos in my chest, I almost laughed. She was all over the place emotionally. Then she suddenly snapped back. "Wait! You said you're a soldier. Was that even true?" Here we go. "Kinda. I’m a warrior in my pack." "What does that mean?"

A Northern Claws warrior, by his gear, but one who appeared to have suffered some horror. "Found him at the border," Garrett explained as we approached. "Says he was freed from enemy captivity." The warrior's hands shook as he drank water, his eyes elsewhere with trauma. "They're fighting," he croaked. "The enemy commanders. Arguing over what to do next. The witches are demanding that the entire valley be cursed, destroyed utterly regardless of cost. The wolf packs are demanding that's too wasteful, that they need prisoners and intelligence. And there's a third group, all human, who simply rant and rave about 'securing the asset' as though this were some kind of retrieval op."