Novel & Cerita Armada

Mercile Industries was a drug research and development company that would do anything to make a buck. She watched 416 cautiously as she allowed her gaze to roam over his naked body. His back rose and fell with his breathing but besides blinking, he didn’t otherwise move. She noticed a red mark on his side. With his arms stretched upward she could see it clearly. Ellie hesitated. He could kill her if he broke a chain.

"You are the new girl, yes?" "Yes sir. I'm Adrienne." I bowed. He looked at me from head to toe and clucked his tongue. "I am the general commander of the Delta warriors. They call me Adam." He walked with me along me. "Alpha Ezra has told me to test you, and that is what I am going to do. Get on the sparring ground." He gestured at me. I walked to the center of the clearing and looked at all the faces staring at me. Delta Adam accessed all his warriors, looking for the right person to test me until a hand shot up.

I proposed, and they all nodded in agreement. "What about you?" June inquired. "I will follow after all of you have crossed," I replied, and she nodded with concern. "Please be careful," Lex murmured. With determination, I raised my hand, facing the imposing sea. My eyes turned completely white due to the immense power I was about to unleash. Instantly, the ocean that had loomed before me parted into two distinct halves.

She replied with a smile as she watched Philip leave the studio to answer a call. Dana had settled well in California within the short period that they had arrived. She turned on the T.V and watched the crisis going on in America and then it got to a certain point where she heard about the CRUZ company, owned by Maria and Manuel Cruz. The company was accused of plagiarism and infringement.

Too weak to move. Freya stood to her feet. “Leo has just two minutes to live. Save him if you can,” and with that, she walked away. Vogar followed alone like he had been waiting to leave this environment for long. What were they going to do next? The beast was not on the Throne, and Beta Max will never take charge of anything if he wasn’t given the orders. Aside from that, Vogar was an Alpha. Very powerful and had lots of abilities. He knew his way around the packhouse and had so much control when the beast wasn’t around. Freya was already on the side of Vogar. She will manipulate Beta Max and Gamma Liam into falling into their trap. They were the next target. Vogar was after the Throne.

"They are the size of the legendary Dire wolves. Brand's wolf comes almost up to my shoulder on his flat feet. His teeth are as fearsome as the Háhyrnir (killer whale) that roamed our sea." Astrid witnessed his Adam's apple bob and his face drain of color in terror. "You are lying," he declared, but the quiver in his voice betrayed his deepening fear. "I am not," she assured him. She tried to muster up a look of concern for him, though she was not at all convinced she was pulling it off. "Save yourself, Leif. Show me where the baby is. Brodi is merciful. If you abandon your plan and confess, I'm sure you will survive. If you do not…"

"Amara... is that terrifying warlord truly your blood uncle?" "He is the Supreme Commander of the Adebayo Dominion," Amara snaps, her face twisted with bitter resentment. Her perfect standing with Kael has been completely compromised because of this old hag’s stupidity. "He used to protect my name above all others, but now he deploys his entire mafia network strictly to shield that unranked nurse!" "The warlord looks remarkably young," Carolla mutters, her mind scrambling to process the raw power she had just witnessed.

“The engine's dying.” “There’s an old fishing cabin three miles ahead,” Kol said, gripping the wheel tightly. “Off the grid. No power. No cameras.” “Go,” Adrian ordered. His fingers tightened around my wrist. He looked at me, his voice low. “If we have to split up… you stay with me, Isla. Understand?” Before I could answer, a deep, heavy engine sound rumbled behind us. I turned. A large matte-black armored personnel carrier had appeared out of the darkness. It pulled alongside us on the narrow road matching our speed.

Forty-eight hours. The countdown to the end of the world began not with a roar, but with the synchronized thrumming of a massive, joint-force armada crossing the Arctic Circle. It was a sight that should not exist in nature. A fleet of state-of-the-art, nuclear-powered icebreakers from the Blackwood Corporation, painted in matte-black tactical paint, plowed through the twenty-foot-thick glacial ice, creating a path of dark water. Behind them sailed the Crimson Court’s ancient, reinforced war galleons, their black sails bearing the silver crest of the bleeding bat, looking like ghost ships emerging from the endless fog.