Ashfur Warriors Novels & Stories

You said I was unfit to be a warrior; prove it. The shock on his face morphed into anger, and he charged towards me like a bloodthirsty bull. I dodged his charging body effortlessly and kicked him in the shin. A strangulated sound left his lips, and as he fell to the ground, it gave him another kick in the jaw. Blood splattered across the floor, and he fell on his face with a thud. Ten seconds. That's all it took to put him down like a dog with a big bark and no bite.

Alex pov. My warriors climbed the trees pulling down vampire spies and rogued wolves who growled with their yellowing teeth. Emi was at the house as we cleaned up our lands and dragged the prisons to the dungeons when an unexpected or rather expected visitor arrived. I gapped at Isaac who was all grown and stood tall with a quarter of his pack warriors on Ian's front lawn. They all wore their Assriyan clocks in pride with their muscles protruding and glistening in the setting sun which took nothing away from the female warriors that stood just as steady next in formation.

It was like they had eyes everywhere. I watched with awe as Alpha Asher appeared at the scene. He was wearing a black leather jacket with a pair of matching pants. The jacket was adorned with several silver buttons, and he had a silver chain around his neck. He looked as imposing as ever, and I could see the warriors all stiffening with respect at the sight of him. Asher began to order the warriors, dividing them into different groups. I watched intently, wondering what he was up to. I couldn't understand a word of what he was saying, but I could tell that it was something important.

The 11 clans of Afugiri provided 3 brave warriors making the total warriors selected to be 33 in number. Before you could be selected as a warrior, you must have passed the tests every warrior must pass. The first test is the test of courage, where you’ll be taken to the bush with your eyes tied and left to pass the night alone. You’ll be given a gong so that if by any time of the night you lost courage, you’ll strike the gong and the men would come out and remove the cloth tied on your eyes but you’ll never be considered as a warrior until you could pass the night alone with your eyes covered. Each of the 33 warriors knows what it is to walk in darkness. Before they became warriors, they sp

Cara POV As we packed the car to leave our home and the Wolf Claw Pack, the air thick with tension, my father suddenly charged toward us, swinging a bat like a man possessed. My heart leapt into my throat as he got dangerously close, aiming at my mother. Time seemed to stretch - the flash of movement, the fear that gripped my chest, the metallic scent of panic in the air. And then, somewhere in the chaos, my mind went rogue: What. An. Idiot. A wolf with a bat? Wooooo, such a scary warrior. Haha! Even in the middle of terror, a tiny spark of sarcasm bubbled up - it was the only way I could cope with what was happening. He was coming straight at me!

Another swipe, and another lifeless body crashed against the dirt. The creatures were fast, far faster than ordinary wolves.They attacked without fear, hesitation, or concern for their own survival, but speed alone meant nothing. If they were fast... Asher was faster. The battle around us became a blur of movement. Growls echoed through the trees, claws collided, and dust rose into the air. Stormfang's warriors fought seamlessly. Craig tore through one Feral before immediately turning toward another. Our warriors maintained formation, refusing to let the creatures isolate anyone. One by one... the Ferals fell, and their numbers shrank rapidly until the last one was taken down.

As we descended into the subterranean colosseum, the noise became overwhelming. Two thousand warriors filled the stone tiers of the cavern. These were the Shadow Warriors—the battle-scarred outcasts of the Dead Woods. They were alphas, betas, and omegas who had been rejected by their birth packs, criminals who had survived the brutal winter wilderness, and veterans of forgotten border wars. They didn't wear uniforms; they wore heavy furs, iron chains, and leather straps over bodies covered in jagged claw scars. They were savage, and radiated a volatile pressure.

“They’re coming.” “How many?” Chase demanded. The scout swallowed. “Too many to count. Black banners. Shadow beasts. Wolves… wrong ones.” My fingers tightened around Finn’s shoulder as his body vibrated with a low, furious growl. Seraphina had not wasted time. She never did. The Plains of Ash, Midday They appeared like a nightmare spilling into daylight. The cursed wolves moved as one, their bodies twisted by shadow magic, bones visible beneath stretched skin, eyes glowing an unnatural red. Behind them marched warriors in dark armor, faces hidden, banners stitched with Seraphina’s sigil, a crescent split by a claw.

“They’re not trying to fight back with lies anymore. They’re fighting with fire.” Natalie clenched her fists. “Then we give them the storm they asked for.”

I shouted at the guard and tell him to call Ash, the War team leader. Ash come after I done putting my shirt and jeans. He was the tallest one in the hideout, with an army cut of black hair and piercing blue almost slivery eyes. He was one of the idol werewolf on every pack. He doesn’t care about it; I don’t know that he even trying to find any mate, after what happened to his mate. “Something happened, boss?” Asked Ash. “Yeah, gathered the team. Zephyr needs us.” I Said to him, while I carry my backpack and took my keycar.