Battlefield 4 Recker Novels & Stories

The next day: I woke up early and went to Sophie’s house since it was a Saturday. “Mate!” Four voices said out loud, startling me. “Mate? How can four of you be my mates?” I asked incredulously. Brent scratched the back of his head, “remember how I told you I needed to explain some things? Well, I guess I should start here.” He continued, “you have five mates, us and a guy named Maximus.” I stared at him with my mouth wide open. “We’ve been through this already before, you just don’t remember. But I do. I remember everything.” He said. “I’m just thankful that we are still your mates, I was worried that things would end up being different with you not being a fallen.”

“I see them, don’t worry, we have a reception committee waiting for them at the Reiver border, we will out -number them and out-muscle them if we have to.” Brother Andrew just nodded nervously, he would rather it didn’t come to a fight, the Templars had been a peaceful pack for hundreds of years and that was something he didn’t want to change, the Reivers were a different matter however. ”Thank you, I have every faith in you. We owe Alpha Armstrong a great debt for the Reiver’s help in this operation. What’s your name son?” “My name is Camron Kerr, those are my Clansmen driving the other cars and we will do our best to get you on to Reiver territory in one piece I promise.”

He stroked my hand with his thumb. “The bringers of death?” I suggested. “The Delazar’s thrive on war. Their leader loves chaos and power. Delazar believes the weak should be killed.” He paused, with a grim look on his face, and I thought back to what Sam said about his brother, then he continued, “Reaper is the name he gave our clan because we are the bringers of death.” “Have you… brought death to anyone?” I wanted his answer to be no but a part of me wondered and I had to know.

If the alpha was lost, so was the clan. "Keep fighting, Alpha!" Kelda, the pack's shaman screamed over the rising wind and the crack of lightning crossing the sky. Brodolf threw his head back and howled, the sound long, loud and dripping with pain. Suddenly, he felt a pop, weak as a soap bubble, but a sign that he had won this round. They had once again beaten back the berserker that lived within him. Slowly, his body righted itself until finally he was left lying on his side, naked and spent, upon the frozen ground. Kelda sat next to him, murmuring nonsense and stroking his hair, giving him what comfort she could until he recovered enough to sit up and wrap the blanket she held around his b

I hadn't slept in thirty-six hours, but adrenaline kept me sharp as I processed the incoming information. “North quadrant breached!” Ryker's voice crackled through the comms, strain evident even through the static. “They've got new weapons — some kind of hybrid dampeners. Lost three warriors already!” I slammed my fist on the tactical table. “Elias, status?” I demanded, already moving pieces on the virtual battlefield.

I’m on my knees in the next second, half to avoid any hits to my upper half abdomen hard because I can’t hold myself up anymore. My vision becomes blurry. My healing still slow as fuck. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that’s been fucked up with. I’m thinking of going for the last possibility option and shifting when a familiar voice fills my eardrums. “Wait, hold fire! Stop!” Ryker comes running from between the trees. He’s dressed ready for war in his armour and holds a shield. “Hold fire!!!” He shouts again, still running toward me. He’s right by my kneeling form when I feel my body free fall backwards and the world turns black again.

His skin was translucent, his eyes two pits of freezing violet vacuum. The guards screamed, their light-charms flickering and dying in his presence. Ryker didn't waste time with a brawl; he moved like a poisonous thought through the corridors, his smoke-claws tearing through reinforced steel doors as he hunted for the sub-level controls. He was the one who found it: a heavy, pressure-sealed hatch marked with the sigil of the "Drowning Cells."

Ryker tossed and turned in his bed, his breath shallow, his body slick with sweat. The nightmare came as it always did—relentless and suffocating. Always the same nightmare but this time around, it was different. He was there again, standing amidst the ruins of a battlefield drenched in blood. The stench of death clung to the air. And it was a thick one, almost suffocating. Screams echoed all around him, warriors falling and their bodies torn apart by the merciless claws.

Trunks watched Angelique disappear between the shelves, then felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Alejandro: Where are you, bro? Meet us at the shooting range. Trunks: I’m quite busy right now. Alejandro: Oh, please. You always say no. Come this time. Trunks: Okay. He sighed, slipped his phone away, and left the library. ¤¤¤ “Hey, Trunks! You finally came,” Ryan called when he arrived at the shooting range.

Grace’s entire harem act had been smoke and mirrors to distract from the one man she truly loved. Then Ryker’s voice cut through the tension. “I saw it coming miles away,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically serious. He sat shirtless under a tree, his torso wrapped tightly in bandages. “A father can barely tolerate another man near his daughter, let alone a friend. This fight was inevitable.” Our eyes met, and I blinked. I hadn’t expected such insight from Ryker. Before I could respond, another thunderous snarl dragged my gaze back to the battlefield.