Novelas y relatos de Broken Warriors

Maliyah I love how Aspen knows how to cheer me up. He knows me better than anyone else. We are walking hand in hand passed the training field. The warriors are training hard as they are preparing to be ranked. I see a young warrior, Ray I think is his name, getting the wind knocked out of him by Chris. I feel bad they paired him with Chris, Chris is one of the best and we all already knew he would be a high ranking warrior. I stop watching the fight and grimace as I hear bones crunching as blood begins to pour from Ray’s nose. Yet, he doesn’t give up and gets back up, preparing his next attack. I can tell even Chris wishes the young wolf would just stay down.

Alice lost the pup—and the healers said she'd never carry again. Jack went straight to the Enforcers, claiming Alice had infected him on purpose. Then he stormed the Elders' Council, demanding a forced rejection and payout. It was like Jack had finally found the perfect excuse. He kept trying to rope me in, whining about revenge, begging me to help him bleed Alice dry. I shut him out—and gave the Elders the real story. Turns out, Jack had paid rogue wolves to fake his war-hero image in the Silvermoon Guard.

The pack was already stirring when Elara stepped outside. The air was cool and crisp, the early morning sun casting long shadows across the grounds. Warriors moved with purpose, their expressions tense and focused as they prepared for whatever was to come. The battle with the rogues had shaken them, but they had regrouped, ready to defend their territory against any further attacks.

Tribiano’s warriors rallied behind him, their spirits lifted by his sudden resurgence. The enemy, realizing they had underestimated the pack’s resolve, tried to regroup, but it was too late. Alex was relentless, leading the charge to free the elders and push the invaders back. With a final, thunderous roar, Alex struck down the last of the enemy’s commanders, leaving the rest of them in disarray. The battle was over, and victory belonged to Tribiano.

“Round up the Omegas and any innocents you can find.” One-by-one, my warriors start to shift back. I look around the room at them. “You did good. Take the fallen warriors' tokens so we can bring them to their families. We can’t travel back to Breaking Dawn with corpses. We’ll give them a proper memorial when we’re home.” That’s how we do it when we have a battle far from home. Each warrior carries a token with them. Something we can present to their families if they die in battle. Brent comes walking up to me. “Now what?”

Mercenaries wearing Roman’s sigil were trading continuous fire with the Valak vanguard at point-blank range. And right in the center of the crossfire stood Bane. He looked like an apocalyptic warlord. His massive, towering frame was completely unyielding against the onslaught, his assault rifle spitting a continuous stream of lethal fire into the advancing mercenaries. He was screaming orders to his men, his voice an absolute force of nature that rose above the sound of the artillery. He was fighting with an unhinged, animalistic savagery, driven entirely by the desperate need to clear a path to the residential wing to find me.

"I will try." Luna's force departed first, thirty-three warriors moving at speed toward the western forest where smoke already rose to the sky. I watched them go, knowing some would not return. My own team assembled quickly. Twenty warriors, mostly veterans who understood suicide missions. We carried light armor and weapons designed for speed over protection. "Move out," I commanded. As we ran toward the eastern border where Garrett waited with his hostage, I felt Aria's anguish through the mate bond. She stood on the wall watching us leave, torn between duty and family.

"I don't understand." The Warden continued. I was created to guard the door. Its body began breaking apart. Huge pieces of stone fell into the city. But I was also created to protect you. The Gatewalker attacked again. A massive arm pierced through the Warden's chest. The ancient guardian used its remaining strength to grab its enemy. For the first time, it fought not as a guardian. Not as a weapon. But as a loyal servant making a final choice. Go to the throne. Rowan shook his head.

Princess Vivian was a renowned sorceress who had fought alongside Ryder during the campaign against the Great Dragon. She had stood beside him on the battlefield, sharing the danger, exhaustion, and triumph of war, to the people who watched their story from afar, it was almost inevitable that such a partnership would become something more. Two warriors falling in love after sharing the thrill and danger of the battlefield was an irresistible tale for the bards. They had seized upon the romance with enthusiasm, wasting no time composing ballads about the heroic knight and the beautiful princess who had fought beside him. Those songs had spread throughout the city, allowing the romantic tale t

Beside her, Valentina stirred and mumbled something into her neck pillow. "What?" Harper whispered. "Cowboy," Valentina murmured, eyes still closed. "Big hat. Dimples." Harper smothered a laugh, tucked a blanket over her friend's knees, and turned back to the window. Far below, a thousand miles of desert slid past, bright as hammered gold. And somewhere beyond it, Texas was waiting.