Broken Warriors Novels & Stories

He cackles as he walks out of the office, Chris shakes his head, "I won't abandon you, well not for an hour anyway, Cynthia is making the boys take dance classes and I'm waiting till they go to bed so I don't hear the drama from any of them." I arch a brow at him, "thanks, at least one of my best friends.." I'm cut off when Chris mind links us and all the warriors, "rogue breach, several spotted coming in the west boarder, I'm heading that way now." We move quickly towards the front door of the packhouse, shedding our clothes as we leap from the front steps and shift.

His men were waiting, and the journey ahead would not be easy. As he approached the station where his warriors gathered, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. The men chosen for this mission were not just soldiers—they were the best of the best, warriors of courage and honor. They had been handpicked by Alfred for their skill, discipline, and loyalty to the pack. All of them were unmarried, their lives dedicated solely to the protection of their people. At least six of them were orphans, raised by the pack itself after losing their families in the brutal world of rogue attacks and territorial wars.

Marcus helps up Sean and moves him toward the border. When Bridger snaps, someone walks forward and Sean limps through the barrier to be grabbed by a warrior and helped away. That’s when the whooping and hollering starts. The war cries of a thousand rogues, no real leader, no real reason for this war other than chaos. Rocky is next to me in a second, Marcus on my other side as we stand with our backs against the barrier. Panic fills me as I remember his plan to shove me across the border and fight with the pain.

The heavy log door of the mansion bursts wide open with a single, forceful alpha kick from a giant warrior boot. "Are your dirty paws still standing around here idling inside my dead birth mother's house?" my voice cuts through the room like a freezing north wind as my boots stride straight into the den, surrounded by eight massive, heavily armed Blackwynd dominion warriors whose giant shadows radiate absolute pack danger. "Three dawn moons have fully passed, and your lazy camp hasn't even bothered to pack up a single piece of meat or fur pelt. Clearly, your minds didn't take my pack warning seriously at all!"

I love you. *I love you too. Come back to me,*Aria sent back. The battle raged for two hours. To Aria, trapped underground, it felt like days. Finally, the all-clear signal came through the bonds. But the relief was tempered by the overwhelming sense of loss. When they emerged, the sight that greeted them was devastating. The eastern border was destroyed, trees knocked down, earth scorched. And everywhere, blood. Aria immediately shifted into healer mode, pushing down her horror to focus on the wounded. There were twelve seriously injured warriors, including two who might not survive. She worked alongside Elena and Catherine, stitching wounds, setting bones, doing everything they could to sa

Roman POV I got an urgent mind link from my warriors to get to my brother Reign’s home, my pulse hammering in my chest as I raced there. I contacted by mind link my oldest brother, Hamza, and a few trusted warriors to meet me there. Calling on my wolf, I pushed through the terrain as fast as I could, grabbing only a t-shirt and joggers, which I tied around my neck to change into later. Every second mattered. Every second was a chance to prevent more suffering.

His warriors spread out ahead of us, giving us space without being told. "That's twice now," he said without looking back. I knew what he meant. The phone call with Harrison. And now this. "Thank you," I said. Nothing more. "I was hoping for more than thanks." He slowed his pace until we walked side by side. "Join my team for the hunt. Consider it repayment." "I'd slow you down." A half-smile. "I doubt that very much." "Sasha is the strongest female warrior now. Everyone says so. Your team doesn't need another fighter."

"Marcus, gather every able-bodied wolf. We aren't rebuilding the manor today. We’re building a 'Breaker.'" ​The "Tameless Heart" of the North was about to attempt the impossible: to punch a hole through reality itself to reach the throat of the South.

When I reached the training ground I stopped and stared for a moment, the entrance was huge , carved by time and storms , their flames shaking gently in the cold air. The worriors were already gathered outside big, confident men stretching and sharpening their blades. Their laughter echoed everywhere. They didn’t even look at me. I felt small, like I didn’t belong here. I stepped forward slowly, "Roshan". He stood with his arms crossed, staring at the warriors like he owned the whole mountain. His dark hair was tied back, his jaw sharp, his eyes cold and strong. he looked unshakeable, like nothing could ever break him.

"But I needed to give him one anyway." "Both things can be true," I said. She looked at me. "How do you carry all of it? The hating and the not-hating. Doesn't it tear you in half?" "Yes," I said. "But I've decided being torn in half is better than being hollowed out." Chelsea nodded slowly. Then she walked away toward the fires, and I let her go. --- The combined force numbered just under three hundred. Shadow, Ironmaw, Nighthollow, and what remained of Ashfall's fighting wolves. They spread across the ridge in loose clusters, sharpening blades, checking supplies, speaking in the low tones warriors use before something none of them understand.