Crookedstar Warriors Novels & Stories

One particularly displeased young warrior retorted, "Who said we needed your help? Sameer could have handled those monsters on his own. It was only a matter of time!" "Respect, please," Sameer intervened quickly, then smiled at Adrian, saying, "I apologize for his rudeness." Adrian waved it off. "It's alright. Young ones can be spirited. By the way, may I ask your name and faction?" Facing Adrian's inquiry directly, the warrior didn't hesitate. "We are warriors from Valor Supreme. I'm Sameer Asghar, and these are my juniors."

However, in a heartbeat, the enemy moved like a wraith, a blur of motion, and suddenly, Alpha's men were sprawled on the ground, their necks gushing blood. Simultaneously, Cirocco emerged, his presence commanding, making everyone's heart skip a beat. Cirocco approached Liam and bowed respectfully, "Sir, the thirteenth squad of the Green Dragon Warriors from the Draconian Order is in position. We've got the place locked down!" Liam gave a curt nod, his voice icy, "Good! As for those from the three factions, show no mercy to those who refuse to surrender!" The crowd was shell-shocked by his decree, particularly Alpha and his crew, who were shaking like leaves.

The rogue also bears the mark of the disgraced, a scratch made by the alpha's claws on the left side of the face. Nathan chuckles humorlessly, reclining in his chair. "There's a fine line between courage and flat-out idiocy." I keep my head held high. I won't back down, no matter the consequences that may come. I grit my teeth and clench my fists as the will to punch Nathan increases. "Then again, if you're that willing to throw away your life, you've come to the right place," he responds flatly. He stands and opens his arms wide, mockingly. "Welcome to the Elite."

Theo was just still a child who was worried about his parents while pretending he was strong. Uncle Mitch and Aunt Gabi's sons, Daryl and Carl joined us as we crossed the meadow and moved to the large training ground. Carl had a twin, Louis; they were Uncle Carter and Aunt Lizzy's precious sons. We reached the training ground. The smell of sweat lingered around. Warriors from different supernatural kinds sparring with each other. The Crescent Pack had an Elite team composed of several warriors from different kinds and races. That was the best part about the Crescent Moon Pack, it welcomed all supernatural beings irrespective of their kind or race. We had werefoxes, black panthers, weretigers

A man's scream echoed roughly in a flash. Marcus witnessed two werewolves dragging a male soldier. He appears to be a member of the WW Force based on his clothing. The man struggled, even more, when he was forced to kneel in front of Althaia, who was now staring at him emotionlessly. Althaia grinned horrifyingly. "Any final words?" Marcus overheard Althaia ask the poor man. Instead of pleading for his life, the man insulted Althaia's ferocity. "All right, make the most of your petty lives now, because your race will be extinct in this world soon!"

"Look at all those normals shrieking and shouting in pain, General! We'll be having lots of gold and power with this!" The young general just shook his head watching the orc make fun of the normals below. They were riding a flying warship above the clouds, concealed with magic by his wizard lieutenants. Four elder wizards were also gathered at the front deck, reading out spells for summoning The Storm. Big bolts of lightning struck down the skies as each paper of spell burned after their incantations. "General Lucãs!" A tall, middle aged man with dark sideburns walked briskly and approached the young general standing behind the rails. He gave him a sharp salute and then spoke.

Warriors reached for weapons they had set aside for dancing. My breath caught. “What is happening?” Danger, my wolf answered at once, no hesitation now. Not memory. Not vision. Real danger. The gates exploded inward. Armored soldiers stormed through in brutal formation, shields marked with a blazing star sigil carved across the steel. The Star Pack. I knew that mark from whispered warnings and old stories. Second most powerful. Known for leaving no survivors when they made a statement. For a moment my mind refused to understand why they were here.

A few of the warriors cursed aloud. Redmaw. One of the oldest and most ruthless packs to ever exist beyond the Steelgrove Mountains. Their Alpha, Volgrin, was a legend soaked in slaughter. They didn’t trade. They didn’t negotiate. They claimed. And now, they were marching on Darkfang’s soil. “For what reason?” Dren snapped, his wolf barely contained under his skin. The wounded scout turned his head slowly. His eye was swollen shut, his ribs splintered. But he managed one sentence.

His wise eyes sized me up. I knew I must look like hell—red eyes, wrinkled clothes, reeking of despair. He cut me off. "So, you know where she went. But do you know why she had to go?" I froze. "Damien, do you know what The Claws represent?" The Elder stood and walked to the window. Of course, I knew. The top werewolf security organization in the world. Directly under the royal family. Only the best of the best from every pack made it in.

Shifting is a nasty business, not to forget the pain. Being around family helps ease the pain just a little. Class 3 will be a choice going forward. Class 3 is for those wanting to continue becoming pack warriors or part of the Elite teams. Class four, which I belong to, is for those that want to specialize either in being Elite or Alpha/Luna Guards, and your training is determined based on your skill set levels. You can call Elite Warriors the Special Ops or Tactical team; only a few details of their training are; only Gamma Theo and his 2nd will know since they oversee those training sessions. Lastly, we have the Alpha/Luna Guards, which is self-explanatory but doesn't help. They specializ