Bone Warrior Novels & Stories

Its bio-armor rippled as a third bone spike loaded into its forearm chamber. It was ten feet away. Point-blank range. Baraka didn't have the energy to dodge again. He didn't have the strength to redirect the force. So he didn't. Baraka roared, a primal, ragged sound of pure, unadulterated human willpower overriding biological failure. He threw himself forward, launching his body directly at the barrel of the Hound’s organic cannon. The Hound fired. The bone spike erupted. But because Baraka had closed the distance to zero, the spike didn't have the space to build terminal velocity. It struck Baraka squarely in the left shoulder, punching cleanly through the flesh and muscle, pinning his arm

The power within her was awakening—and it was too much to contain. The Werebeast stepped forward, its eyes glowing with a twisted intelligence. It wasn’t like the other beasts she had encountered before. This one—this weapon—was something different. The lines between animal and soldier had blurred, and it was no longer just a beast of destruction. It was something more, something deeper. "You carry the Soulbone," it repeated, its voice raspy, almost reverent. "The key. The Frostkin blood... it calls to us."

Something in the wind—low and echoing like it came from the bones of the world. Morwenna heard it too. Her head snapped toward the stone archway behind us. The fire we’d lit had dimmed, its glow turning green. Sickly. Wrong. A shadow slipped across the ground. No sound. No footfall. But the grass beneath it wilted. Morwenna cursed and stepped back, dragging me with her. “Don’t let it touch you,” she warned, voice hoarse. “What is it?” “The Bone Seer.” It didn’t look like a man. It didn’t look like anything human. Tall, skin stretched too tight, no eyes—just black holes weeping smoke. Its fingers were too long. Too sharp. Bones showing through rotting skin.

"There were a lot of casualties. But most were on the enemy side and not ours, thank the Goddess. I have my warriors burning the bodies now." I nodded. We wouldn't be able to bring back any of the bodies. It would be too risky. Another problem with fighting battles on someone else's territory, especially one in a foreign country—the families wouldn't be able to hold a proper funeral. "Have they counted the dead?" I asked. "One warrior from each pack volunteered to take a count for their own pack. I believe the one for yours was named Jack Owen." "Jack," I repeated back the name of my friend. "How is he? Did you see him?"

Shyfter ordered. "I may be smaller than you, but I hear everything! Do you remember what happened the last time you challenged me?" Moon smiled wickedly. "I like you, Moon, your my kind of wolf! Big balls, big brain, a ticking time bomb. Ask my brothers here about my temper." Kit clapped Moon on the shoulder. "What my younger ‘brothers’ here don't understand about me, is I am a Son of the Moon. I am one of the oldest wolves in Creation. You, Rex, and Tristan are not much younger than I am." Moon smiled.

he mutters, shifting his weight. His movement draws my attention down to his boots, my eyes catching on the unmistakable splatter of crimson on the toe. I shake my head quickly, my gaze pinging back up to meet his. “Nevermind,” I grimace. “You can spare me the details.” “Figured,” he chuckles, moving beside me and slinging an arm over my shoulders. He presses a kiss to my temple, so tender in contrast to his stony exterior. Callum puts on a hard front as our pack’s lead enforcer, maintaining order and upholding the rule of law within the pack. It’s not unusual for him to come home with blood staining his skin or clothes, and even though I’m not interested in hearing the play-by-play of how i

The land surrounding the sea had few buildings like the parts of castle. "That building at the far corner, at the edge of the land is the training centre." I knew who it was therefore there was no need to turn and see. Damien came and stood beside me with his hands in his pockets. "It seems to be old and.....creepy.....haunted as well." "Yep, it does. In fact it was the first part after the castle that was built. It has been used by all the previous Diamonds that came before us. My dad and mom were also trained there."

They all went by nicknames that referenced their legacies instead of their given names. There was Fracture who stripped the flesh off of enemies he had slain and used their bones to make strong amour and weapons for himself. He would dip the bones in molten metal to strengthen them. There were rumours that he ate the flesh of the fallen but he adamantly denied this, saying he just carved the flesh off with his sword while in human form. Cory nodded politely to show that she believed him. She then carefully avoided his gaze.

Aegeus's eyes flashed with inspiration. His mind was a mess and his reasoning was clouded, yet he could feel the spirit of war bubbling within him. His power as a Berserker filled his bones with strength and made them tougher than the most precious of stones. His muscles were akin to the thick hide of an Ascension Beast - a beast of divinity - and the blood that run through his veins were as precious as gold. The rubies lodged within his eye sockets gleamed as a great thirst for battle filled his bones. His arms ached, but he was a Body Wielder! Pain, persistence and endurance were his bread and butter! Unless his bones were crushed to dust and his muscles torn to bits, he would still fight!

came the reply. Before the first guy could reply, the door opened, angrily creaking and two guys with rifles walked in. They gave frightening glares. One said," Boss wants to see you, Brett. " Swallowing a lump, Brett followed the guards to the main room where cigarette smoke, booze and disappointment wafted to his nostrils. ' Boss', was a lean, muscled man with a face you wouldn't want to look at twice. A long, thin nose, sharp, cunning mouth which belonged to a clever face that was schooled to neutrality. Today, it was contorted with fury.