Barbarians At The Gate Novels & Stories

she snapped, “I need to get back the shop before the boss has my head. Is this about the Bloody Barbies again?” Bloody Barbie was the nickname Maria gave to the murders ever since she’d gotten involved as a suspect. It was an apt name. Each crime scene that had been investigated was painted red with each victim’s blood, and in each one there would be a bloody doll left behind (though, not exactly a Barbie), no less than three feet away from the body.

The night hit my face, fire still burned in corners of the pack and smoke filled the air and then I saw them at the gate. Crescent warriors, so many and more than I thought, more than I hoped, they slammed against the gate, again, again and again. Wood cracked and metal bent. “Hold it!” Darius roared and warriors pushed back from inside, teeth gritted and muscles tight. The gate shook hard and then… A loud crack. The gate broke and split opened and they rushed in, fast, loud and wild and the war began. A roar filled the air, wolves shifted, bodies twisted and bones snapped .

The other looters scattered like rats. “Get back to your homes,” Cassandra called after them sharply. “The real fight is not over yet.” Most of the straddlers they passed did not attempt to interfere with their movement. As they neared the western gate, a blockage manned by city guards stood in their way. The barricade looks sturdy and defensive in appearance, constructed from thick tough-hewn wooden planks reinforced with crossbeams and sharpened stakes. The timber looks weathered and heavy, designed to withstand attacks. Mounted along the barricade a dark blue banners and cloth panels embroider with golden heraldic emblem resembling a royal crest. These banners ripple slightly in the breez

Raff won’t give me any helpful information; the rehearsed answer he gave told me more than enough to bother. A massive gate grew out of the horizon; the gate at Clark and Sofia´s pack was a dwarf compared. The bars were older and stained by rust, but besides that, it was huge. The bars were thicker, and all around the top of the fence, barbwire created big circles down the entire fence. As the cars came closer and stopped, I saw that the wire was also swirled around the bars from the ground and at least a meter up. Just then, my eyes landed on the crest on the door of the gate. It was a shield-shaped emblem with black color and a blood-colored half-moon in the middle. Even if I’ve never been

Ryker added glancing at me. “And as survivors,” I added. ♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎ Ryker's P.O.V The Ironclaw gates loomed ahead, its massive slabs of black iron etched with claw marks and ancient runes. Warriors lined the battlements, their spears gleaming beneath the afternoon sun. Their hostility was unmistakable. It wavers thick in the air. In the way their wolves snarled beneath the surface. In the way their gazes lingered on Zara.

Diana At the northern border of the Zervos pack stands a towering black wrought-iron gate, its intricate design serving as both a deterrent and a symbol of authority. This entrance functions as the official entrance into the territory, the only way permitted for guests to enter. My car rolls to a smooth stop in front of it, the engine purring beneath my fingers- a stark contrast to the tense anticipation thrumming beneath my skin.

Maybe more. The distance made counting impossible. They came from between the trees in neat, silent lines. No banners. No weapons. No war cries. Just people walking. That somehow terrified me more than an army. Armies made sense. Armies followed rules. This didn't. Commander Vane turned sharply. "Seal the gate." The massive iron mechanism groaned immediately. Chains rattled. Wood and steel shifted. The northern gate began closing. No one argued. No one hesitated.

Behind him, the last convoy of their forces arrived trucks armed with mounted cannons, their engines roaring like the heartbeat of vengeance. “Bianca,” Matteo said, his voice a dark vow. “Once we breach that gate there’s no turning back.” “There never was.” The second explosion split the gate open like a wound, molten steel dripping into the dirt. Bianca didn’t flinch. The Blood Gate had opened and she stepped through. Fire followed her like worship. Bianca entered the compound through the smoke, her men fanning out behind her in formation. The air was thick with ash and screams, the sharp tang of gunpowder coating every breath. Her black coat dragged over the debris, streaked with soot and

Solan is like a child, and Nero can only frolic. It was "fortunate" that the adversary refused to give up after that. They dispatched yet another squad of infantry troops to extinguish the flaming battering ram and clear the way for the third. The many families we picked up on the way were concerned about the situation with the camp gates. For them, the only thing standing between death and life was the iron gate. They feel they will die if the adversary succeeds to enter through the gate. "Are you serious about allowing them into the camp, Revered Baron?"

The south gate loomed ahead , half-splintered, iron hinges sagging under the weight of old scars and new sins. Kieran shoved Selena through the opening, spun, and slammed the iron bar down just as the first wave of Calor's men crashed into the wood. The gate shuddered, the timbers groaning under the battering. Beyond the wall, the orchard filled with the shriek of siege horns , the sound of pride sharpening its teeth for the final kill. Cassius appeared beside him, panting, axe braced against the door. "We ready?" Kieran caught Selena's eyes where she stood by the oil barrels, torch raised high in her blood-slick fist. "We're ready."