Boreal Warden Novels & Stories

“That’s what I thought.” Before Aaron could ask what he had against the British, he saw Ward come out of the meeting house, along with the other twenty or so leaders. Seeing Aaron, he waved and began to make his way over. “Ward is only half English,” he whispered to Christian, who nodded, and Aaron thought he might back away to avoid half of Ward, but he didn’t. “I have our instructions,” Ward said, a small scrap of paper in his hand. “We have two other Guardians and three Hunters on our team that we need to locate.” He was looking around, as if he might know what they looked like.

I thought about Lena asking to visit and being told to wait, and asking again and being told the doctors recommended it, and behind all of it a document with Kai's seal sitting in a file somewhere that explained every deflection in clean administrative language. I picked up the mug and put it down without drinking. "Is there more," I said. "Or is that all of it." Lena wrapped her hands around her mug. "There's more." "Tell me." She looked at me across the table. "Varden is moving on the eastern border. Four days. Walter gave the order before I left their compound." I stared at her. "Varden." "Yes." "The same Varden that sent the challenge." "Yes, Theo."

I said, "completely, even through whatever fear this new mission requires me to navigate." Over the following months, Wren developed this ambitious outreach program with characteristic careful, generous attention, eventually establishing what became known as the Wardens' Watch, a network of trained scouts and scholars traveling systematically toward every distant, unmapped territory our expanding understanding suggested might harbor similarly isolated bloodlines carrying this ancient, complicated inheritance.

Ward-Bearer. ‎ ‎Calla's expression shifted into something I had not seen from her before, not surprise exactly, but the particular look of someone who had suspected something for a long time and was finally watching it confirmed in front of them. ‎ ‎"Ward-Bearer, " she repeated slowly. That is a Guardian designation. A bloodline that carries a protective function whether or not the individual understands it or activates it deliberately." She looked up at Theron. "The Beast of the North. An Alpha who survived an impossible coup at nineteen years old and rebuilt an entire territory from nothing. The one the Convergence split its power through rather than simply selecting one vessel the way it

Grace pov With Liam and I en route to Norway, the Fireside and Paw pack house had transformed into an impenetrable fortress. The alphas had recalled every available pack member from outlying territories, positioning them in concentric rings of defense around the central buildings. Elena worked tirelessly to reinforce protection wards, drawing on ancient werewolf magic seldom used in modern times. She also ordered her pack to be on guard. Reid coordinated with the Balance Center's security division, deploying truth-seers to monitor for reality distortions.

The old man—Ossen, though nobody called him that to his face anymore—stood very still, staring up at the ridgeline like he was trying to count them and losing track. Then one of them stepped forward. A man, tall, gray at the temples, a badge at his collar that caught no light at all, like it drank it instead. He didn't climb down. He simply walked off the edge of the cliff and landed without sound twenty feet below, upright, unhurried, like the drop had been nothing. Alvar's stomach turned over. The man straightened his cloak. "I am the First Warden of the Keepers." Nobody answered him. Alvar felt Caierre go very still beside him, that particular stillness he'd learned to recognize—the one t

. Snowmobiles didn’t bother him as much as the dirt bikers because the snowmobiles didn’t Damage the land. He’d run into a couple dirt bikers here a couple of years ago, and had followed them to Wanless Lake, about twenty miles from the nearest road, where they had finally parked their bikes and gone swimming. He wondered how long it had taken them to get their machines back down without the spark plugs. There was no easy way to get from Baree to the Bear Lakes in the winter. He and Tag had mapped out something that appeared to be a passable route —but if it got too rugged, he’d find a different way. All he wanted was for the rogue to see them and go hunting. He thought about those snowmobil

Waiting and watching. The cracked Warden looked directly at me. “The Origin Sequence was never just a system.” I tightened my grip “You already said that.” “No,” he said sharply “You misunderstood.” Another pulse exploded across the clearing and the sleeper lifted its head slightly. Listening. The Warden lowered his voice. “The system was built to contain the Origin.” Cold spread through my chest. “What Origin?” The Warden looked toward Lena. “She is.” Everything stopped....the forest and the pulses beneath the ground.

A tall, thin figure was standing in that landscape, slowly turning its head. It was too thin, its limbs were all wrong, and its head was a smooth oval with no features that still gave off an air of ancient, predatory intelligence. It didn't have any eyes, but I could feel its gaze on me, as if Kael were nothing. It was the Warden. And it was looking at its own property. Kael stepped forward and his claws grew longer. "Please leave. You are not welcome here."

“And if it grows without attention…” “It would suffocate,” Arden concluded. “Yes. That’s why we need you.” Lucian crossed his arms. “So what’s next?” Arden smiled faintly. “You help us wake the rest. Carefully. With balance. With song.” Serakha glanced to where the trees formed a denser forest on the horizon. “That’s more work to be done,” she said quietly. Arden nodded. “Always.” They started out together the next morning, Serakha, Lucian, The Onyx Wolf. And now Arden, the Warden of the Deep.