Borderlands 3 Warlord Novels & Stories

he hissed at her. “But my Grandfather?” she whined. “Take this,” he said pulling Light Stick's necklace from his neck. He'll protect you as long as you wear this. Do not come here for aid. Go East as he says, you will find peace.” he said waving his hand across the sky. “When the sky bleeds red, you must battle Little Dove.” he pushed her away from the fire.

"Don't look so scared babe. The worse he'll make you do is fuck him. It might be pleasurable depending on-" Losing all his sense of his cool, war let go his mate and his cool demeanour flew out the window and into Trent's face. The blow to his packmate forced the large in height and width man to stumblya few feet backward. A sickening crack sounded. Trent groaned before his hands went to his face, letting loose a slew of curse words. His fullname was Warren; but that didn't suit him much. War was his name and he felt the surge of the power from the name flow through him as he stalked over to Trent.

(ongoing) Warrior's Mate: The Bonding, the one time each year that wolves can find their mates, is about to start. And not too soon. With war on the horizon, all of the unmated alpha kings and their betas need to find their mates. That bond will increase their powers, giving them an edge in the battle to come. But with fated mates so rare, a contingency plan seems to be in order. At least, that’s what Alpha King Joel Green of the Greenlake Kingdom thinks when he aligns himself with the Moss Stone Kingdom by promising to marry the daughter of their alpha king if they don’t find their mates at the Bonding. But what happens when he finds his fated mate? Or when he finds out that not only does t

“You’ve shown great improvement today. You have the potential to become a great warrior.” Aiel beamed with pride at the compliment. “Thank you, Reina. I’ve learned my lesson and I promise I’ll never gossip again.” Reina nodded, her expression softening. “I believe you, Aiel. But remember, being a warrior means more than just physical strength. It also means being honourable and honest. You must always uphold the values of our people.” Aiel nodded, taking in Reina’s words. She knew that being a true warrior meant more than just physical strength, and she was determined to live up to those ideals.

A Northern Claws warrior, by his gear, but one who appeared to have suffered some horror. "Found him at the border," Garrett explained as we approached. "Says he was freed from enemy captivity." The warrior's hands shook as he drank water, his eyes elsewhere with trauma. "They're fighting," he croaked. "The enemy commanders. Arguing over what to do next. The witches are demanding that the entire valley be cursed, destroyed utterly regardless of cost. The wolf packs are demanding that's too wasteful, that they need prisoners and intelligence. And there's a third group, all human, who simply rant and rave about 'securing the asset' as though this were some kind of retrieval op."

"What do you expect? I'm betrothed to the hottest guy in all of Northern Bloodlands!" Cairh was literally every girl's dream. His body was carved and chiseled from spending hours gyming and training and he had that boyish celebrity looks that made females swoon. Lately, he started growing his hair out, he was starting to look grown and so manly... I shamelessly stare out my window at him for hours... just watching him train in the yard with the other wolves. My heart beat faster just thinking of him and I can't stop a stupid smile from taking over my face.

Brandur had come. Within a single blink of her eyes, the wolf was gone, and the warrior stood in front of her once again. His lips quirked up in a rakish half smile as he bent to the ground to pick up a bundle of tan cloth. As he shook them out and pulled them up his muscular legs and lean hips, she realized the bundle was pants. "I thought it would be rude to be naked in front of clothed ladies," he said cheekily as he tied the cord that held the britches around his waist.

From a distance, scattered gunfire echoed faintly, a cruel reminder of the land's unrest. Sam stood at the edge of the refugee camp, staring into the hazy skyline. Three months had passed, and he had yet to find a trace of her. "Mr. Worthington! Tent No. 3 needs help!" A local nurse called out in broken English. Snapping out of his thoughts, he strode quickly toward the medical tent. In these three months, the once-privileged Worthington heir had transformed into a capable volunteer, skilled in treating battlefield wounds. His hands had grown calloused, his face bore new scars, and a deep, unresolved darkness had settled in his eyes.

The unranked wolf always returns to the alpha's den. His predatory gaze tracked across my damp chest, evaluating the hard lines of my shoulders and the exposed skin beneath the linen wrap, before he advanced into the room with practiced, territorial dominance. As his massive frame brushed past my shoulder, my olfactory receptors intercepted a heavy, foreign scent profile—a sharp, unmistakable floral note clinging to his leather gear. It was Mireya’s signature, radiating from his armor like a flag planted on conquered territory. The warlord who continuously claimed his schedule lacked a single microsecond for my engineering briefs suddenly possessed endless watches to spend within the scholar

"We are returning to our territory today, and we are absolutely not starting a war with this Warlord over a ridiculous rumor." The two hundred heavily armed rival warriors lowered their wooden spears and sheathed their silver blades quickly because they were already eager to abandon the foolish conflict. While the warriors turned around to march back into the thick green forest, several large guards grabbed the three exiled elders aggressively by the collars of their expensive robes. The three older men screamed and begged for mercy, but the Blood River warriors ignored their protests and dragged them forcefully across the dirt line. Alpha Thomas stumbled backward over the border, completely