Romans & histoires Commander Wolffe

He must have decided to shift and search like the men he’d given orders to, because he chose that moment to reach down and tug the hem of his shirt over his head. Had Isabella been in human form, she would have had to stifle a gasp. The spine and musculature he revealed were rippled with sinew, but the scars were what stole her breath. Even in the dim glow of the moonlight, her wolf eyes allowed her to see. The commander’s body was a history of battles won and lost, wars waged on behalf of a supernatural empire. And then he turned around and Isabella’s breath caught. He wasn’t any commander. He was the commander. In an instant, she recognized exactly who he was. This cowboy wolf was none oth

“What are you waiting for? You’re going to get soaked.” Wondering again if one of the both of them was losing a few nuts he joined her. Matthew Wolffe. Nicknamed the Wolf. Self-made and successful. And he was running in the streets alongside a laughing nurse who caught his attention singing soulfully at a club. She was laughing as she shielded her head from the rain, dodging passersby. Before long they were in front of her apartment. She led him through the doors and up the steps to her apartment. They were both dripping wet by the time they got into the warmth of her home. She left his side and turned on the lights. A puppy with light brown fur danced around her legs.

I slowly got out of the car and looked around the killing field. It was only now that I noticed the dead werewolf off to the side. He did not participate in the battle. It must be Fred. He found his treacherous death. Here is the body of Trent's faithful bodyguard, indifferently abandoned by his master. And two wolves I killed. The first one barely twitched its paws, the second crawled into the safe thick of the forest on broken legs. I bypassed him.

Rogues are a disgusting breed all on their own. “Sir, they disappeared. You were right, they headed for Midnight Hours borders but we lost their scent a few miles away.” The young man replied, clearly fearing for his life. I watched as he lifted his hand to hit the kid but he was stopped by his phone ringing. “Hello........ What?....... Well what the fuck was it?...... What do you mean it felt like an Alpha command?....” I stood from the wall, drawn to his conversation. “It's her. She's a lot more powerful than I though.... Stay close by, you are the best scout I have. Stay out of sight and report back.”

Then he asked the caller, "What do you mean? Who got Loki?" "I do!" An unfamiliar voice shouted. He stood near the doorway that led to the reception. "I got Loki," he repeated proudly. As I glanced at the male, I could instantly tell that he was not a Mooner whom I hadn't seen before. His mere presence could have rivalled that of Alpha Nick's. He moved further into the room, and he and the latter clasped hands in greeting. But his hard eyes remained on my mate. "Chief Richard Wolfe." The call sounded like a threat.

At their front rode none other than Commander Duche, expression grim beneath his golden helm. From the opposite ridge, wolves howled. The Alpha King’s forces emerged–larger, louder–massive wolves charged forward. Led by the Alpha King’s Beta Nolan. Rogues froze. Commander Duche raised his sword. “Stand down!” Beta Nolan’s voice boomed like a thunderclap: “You’ve lost!” Surrounded on all sides, the rogues hesitated–then began to shift and flee, only to be tackled mid-run by waiting soldiers and wolves.

Because the rain had thinned out the crowds, the warriors who were still outside stopped what they were doing, staring at us in absolute shock as we passed by. A small, masked recruit leading a commander carrying a bloody rogue was not a normal sight. So much for staying unnoticed, I thought, suppressing a groan. My entire goal had been to blend into the background, and now I was the center of attention. Commander Hunter carried the beast straight to a corner, dropping the unconscious rogue heavily onto a wooden table where a group of other high-ranking commanders were gathering. They immediately surrounded the table, their faces darkening as they inspected the red-eyed wolf.

he asked. No one moved. The wolves barely even breathed. “Do not make me ask again!” Troy roared. “I will kill every last one of you. Who is your commander?” Finally, a wolf struggled to her feet. “I am their commander.” Troy smirked, and with near pinpoint accuracy blasted the wolf with his aura. She groaned and fell forward, her arms clasped around her stomach. “What kind of warriors are you that you feel you need to hide behind an Omega?” he asked. “What cowards?” He walked closer to the cowering wolves, dragging me with him. “Do you think I’m an idiot?” he asked.

“It’s… complicated.” “Complicated means hot,” she says, eyes sparkling. “It’s Damien Wolfe,” I mutter. Maya gasps so hard I’m afraid she might choke. “Mr. Penthouse?! Mr. Tall, dark, ruined-your-womb-with-a-glance Damien Wolfe?!” I groan. “You make it sound worse.” She grabs a pillow and clutches it dramatically. “Girl, you are playing with the kind of fire that burns souls. That man is a volcano in a suit.”

I look at where the light is coming from and only then I realized that Captain Welton is not alone, he is with Lieutenant Wendell Stone. He salutes when he saw us, "Hey there!" and he turns his gaze on his virtual laptop again where the only light is coming. I don't need to ask why is he here, it is obvious that he too knows something. Captain Welton clears his throat, "So, I guess you two already know First Lieutenant Wendell here. He is the second commander of our team, he specializes in deadly combat and computers. He was the one who does all our investigations through the system, he was also the one who wiped out the footages where Dr. Hawl was caught sneaking in the basement."