Black Warrior Cat Novels & Stories

KATNISS Every child in the werewolf world grew up hearing stories about Hassan Blackthorn. They called him the Shadow King, a cold, ruthless warlord disguised in a billionaire’s tailored suit. He was a brilliant military strategist who had never lost a single border conflict, a man whose dark gray eyes could bring an enemy Alpha to his knees without uttering a single word. He trusted no one, cared nothing for the petty squabbles of the Alpha Council, and ruled the massive Blackthorn territory with absolute, unyielding logic. He was a monster, but he was an efficient one.

She bites her lower lip— white teeth sinking into red flesh— then turns, smiling at the bartender. "Whisky please. Rocks." Her gaze returns to me, and she raises her eyebrows. "Make that two," I say, not leaving her gaze. A minute later he places the drinks in front of us, her hand immediately reaching out to bring it to her lips. "Katherine," she says after taking a slow sip, "but my friends call me Kat." "Adam, but everyone calls me Emilio." "I think I'll stick with Adam," she replies haughtily, daring me to tell her otherwise. I lean in closer to her, trailing her body with my eyes again. I can't stop looking at her legs. She notices, and again raises an eyebrow.

Smiling at Pasha, I returned to my bag, deciding to check whether it was closed correctly and my eyes accidentally fell on Bars. Here is the gray cardinal in our team. He was always silent, did not get into our disputes, and, if you think about it, with the same Kitty it was at least clear what kind of weapon she owned. About Leopard, besides the fact that he is a snowy and a female, I did not know anything. I didn’t even feel if he had a permanent sexual partner. Noticing that I was looking at him, Bars just chuckled and turned away.

As they got in, she did not turn back but instead talked to them. “I take it that you brought what I asked for” she said as she turned her chair, which made them realize that she was holding to a cat all the while. The cat was black, with black irises that gave one creeps. Looking at the skin exposed at her collar bones made them realize that she was indeed old. She stood from the seat and walked towards them while holding the cat, which purred softly as she stroked it. “Yes, I do. They are the ones that have the special combination to make this work. I have searched and in the entire world they are the only ones who have mated human and wolf and had a viable offspring.”

Karson reminded her and she huffed. Mimi and Vic arrived at BlackPaw to them already battling with a large pack of rogues and they quickly shifted and jumped into the fray and took charge. Thanks to the Shadow Warriors the BlackPaw pack was saved from further loss of their pack. BlackPaw didn’t have any loss of lives during this attack, but they had many minor and serious injuries. The most serious injury was sustained by Beta Dakota Diesel BlackPaw. Mimi and Vic found him leaning against a tree as they made their way back to the pack house. “We need to get him to the pack hospital quick; these wounds aren’t healing properly.” Mimi said looking over his wounds.

I snarl at her. "I am sorry. I couldn't let them see me," she says. "We could have died!" "And we didn't. I kept you floating, didn't I? Long enough for that she-wolf to find us." "That she-wolf is the sister of Damon Blackwater. We are in the backwater pack, do you understand that?" "Hmm." "What is wrong with you?" "Let's go for a run." "No!" "Please. Think of it this way, the sooner we heal, the sooner we can leave."

"Continue to follow that guy for me! He's hiding his scent, so something must be wrong with him! I must find out his true identity and his intentions toward Emily!" Black, the leader, received the command with a "meow" and began to leave with another cat. But Winston stopped him: "Wait, Black, are there any chinchilla cats in your gang?" "Meow." Black turned and looked momentarily before a snow-white chinchilla cat emerged from the group. It had a graceful walk and beautiful fur, with green eyes shining gently. It was a rare and precious cat. It looked at Winston tenderly, wagging its tail: "Meow?"

Something I saw too much of, even before I spilled it with my own hands. The tapestry depicted a battle, wolves against cats. I thought I heard something where Black River was stolen from the werecats, and Blood Moon’s territories used to border the werecats until Black Moon stole land from them and claimed it as their own. With that kind of history, it wasn’t surprising that their descendants turned out to be as odious and entitled as they were. Ancient history, either way, and no way of telling what was actually true without being colored by hate and bias.