Boreal Warden Novels & Stories

Ezra asked as he picked up his beer again. Wes grabbed a glass from under the bar and set it on the counter. He then reached down and grabbed the whiskey, filling the glass. "His grandfather is from Draven Falls. Apparently, he's part of some group called the Order of Wardens who see it as their duty to drive shifters out of human populated areas. He offered to buy Everglades a couple of days ago, and now, his grandson threatened to do something to the place." He glanced over at Brianna. "I'd keep a close watch on yourself while they're in town."

Cold air pours in, carrying pine resin and gun oil and, underneath, something warmer that might be bread from a kitchen somewhere behind the stone walls. "State your business." The guard's voice comes out bored, rehearsed, the tone of a man who's said the same four words a thousand times to a thousand strangers. "Warden's staff. I'm expected." Wren extends her identification papers through the gap, keeping her fingers steady by sheer force of will alone. "Property management contract, filed with the pack council eleven days ago, signed off by two council seats." The guard takes the papers and doesn't look at them. His eyes go past her, into the back seat, and stop.

the she-wolf barks, her raspy voice echoing over the gravel. I step forward, closing the distance slowly. I let my massive size do the intimidating, keeping my hands entirely open and resting at my sides. "I am," I state, my deep voice rumbling through the cold air. "I am Warden Torin of Shadow Ridge. This is Warden Mara. Put the machete down. You are trespassing on Blood Moon-protected territory." The she-wolf’s eyes dart to the massive, newly constructed residential wing, the idling construction equipment, and then back to my face. She doesn't lower the blade.

Sable looks at me. I look at Brennan. "Thank you," I say. "The northern territories have twenty-three Warden cities," he says. "And I have been managing them as administrative problems for four decades." He looks at the notation. "That deserves more than an information-sharing arrangement." Sable opens the notation volume. She opens to the northern territory section — the section she began the day the formal challenge arrived, before she knew what Brennan was going to do when he came to Caldenveil. She had already built it.

“She gave me quite a show in the forest. How’d you get a witch for a daughter? I’d say you were lying, but she is your spitting image.” “Just lucky, I guess.” Dad winked at me. “Em, Bommer is here to see Doc’s video feed. Another round of serum will be administered today at Supermax. The bear shifters have had some tangles with hunters in the Pocono Mountains.” “Are there shifters for every animal?” Dad and Boomer looked at one another and chuckled. “No, darlin’. Only top predators.” Boomer laughed. “Diesel started breakfast. You have time for a shower before it’s ready, “ Dad said. My eyes met Ghost’s, which had already started to darken.

114 The next morning, Dark Mountain looked more like it was preparing for a diplomatic summit than a family visit. Decker wasn't surprised. Neither was Jared. The General stood in the courtyard before sunrise organizing warrior assignments while patrol leaders moved around him. Additional guards. Additional perimeter coverage. Additional eyes on the surrounding forest. Not because they expected trouble. Because Adam was coming. And Adam prepared for everything. Jared finished assigning a group of warriors to the packhouse security rotation and walked over to where Decker stood overlooking the main gate. "He'll bring more wolves than he needs."

I nodded and we both grabbed a plate and sat down. I started, “I got an alarming call this morning.” Aidinth furrowed his brow, “Who was it?” I smiled, “It was the leader of the werebears in the Canada and Alaska region. Apparently, they have a really bad poaching problem. They’ve lost five werebears in the last month.” Aidinth gasped, “That’s a lot by any standard. You can’t do this. Do you want me to go?” I shook my head, “No I am going to call Luna Abby and see if she will do it. I’m sure she would like to have an alliance with them anyway.” He nodded, “You’re probably right. Why don’t we go ahead and call her now?” I smiled, “We should do that.”

“Little leaf.” Bramble looked up. “That thing was here before the Ash Wolves.” Claire stared at the creature. “What is it?” Seraphine hesitated. That was enough to make Mason nervous. “Seraphine.” “A Warden.” The word landed heavily. Mason’s bell remained still. But somewhere beneath the earth, another bell rang. One slow note. Then another. Bramble’s head lifted. “The Wardens guarded the sanctuary roads,” Seraphine continued. “Before Pathkeepers. Before packs were assigned to the borders.”

Marble white snowflakes picked up speed as they fell on a snow-covered pod. The heat of the glass melted the snow as it kissed the glass. The Scots pine, Norway spruce, and birch blanket trees were dressed in snow. Somewhere in the Scandinavian mountains, the brown bears, elk, gray wolves, wolverines, and lynx all were roaming, some in search of food, some to escape being one.

“You’ve heard of them.” “Yes,” I said quietly. “But only fragments.” “That was intentional,” he replied. “Their existence was erased from most records.” Winter crossed his arms. “You elves erase a lot of inconvenient truths.” Thalanor didn’t deny it. “The Wardens were not weapons,” he continued. “They were anchors. Living bindings designed to contain convergence points—places where catastrophic forces pressed against our world.” My breath hitched. “Like the seals.” “Yes. But stronger. More… personal.”