Crookedstar Warriors Novels & Stories

One story in particular had always struck him with fear: The tale of Brokenstar. Brokenstar had once been ShadowClan's fiercest and deadliest leader. He treated his Clan with such cruelty that kits were taken from the nursery too early. Those kits were often trained as apprentices in the harshest ways. More often than not, they died in battle before they were even six moons old. It was against the warrior code to allow any kit to train as a warrior. So Brokenstar had treated the code as if it was a joke, and at the end of the day, he paid the ultimate price for his cruelty.

Mary waved a hand and turned to enter the house. The five remaining warlocks of the Wyatt clan knew that with their ridiculously limited number, they didn’t stand a chance against the Stanwood Pack and their Ojah freak. Their strategy, therefore, had been to recruit rogues and witches to help them fight. Rogues were werewolves with no packs. They were usually broken from customary behavior and killed indiscriminately and heedlessly.

There was a tale passed through generations, reaching the 21st Century, about a group of werewolves’ special mutation that brings out dormant abilities from a family’s genetic line. They were said to be marked and blessed by the moon goddess for they were the first of her followers. They were given the title of Legacy Wolves, keeping up their tradition and passing on their special traits through their children.

This is why I haven't spoken with that dumb— I scrunch the letter in my fist and fling it across the room, not really caring where it landed. Every pack living in and around Devil's Peak was entitled to an Alpha, but we also had a social circle of elite fucking werewolves that pretended to be our very own version of the British Royal family. Introducing my cousin, Michael, who was no older than I was when my father and his brother decided to make him overall crown Alpha of the surrounding packs. It was the fact that my authority had been questioned that pissed me off so fucking much. "To be a thorn in my side for the next few days. He's inviting us up to his camp. He wants to know what's the

Little T and Coin were sprawled out in the hallway leading to the office. Bulletholes riddled the walls, the liquor bottles behind the bar all shot to hell. Jake stepped over Nitro’s body, the anger raging in his veins. They’d been good men, all of them. Michelle had been their first lady, a woman that had always smiled and looked after all of them. He was beyond pissed off. He was ready to go to war. He pushed the office door open and clenched his fists. ‘Now we’ll take what is ours.’ It was sprawled on a piece of paper on Bandit’s desk. There were only two MC’s that wanted what the Warriors had. The Reapers and the Dogs. One of them attacked the clubhouse. Or both of them.

“When Arik was nine, he started getting sick all the time. That’s not normal for shifters. You know that. I found a shaman and a human doctor. Long story short, he had a rare blood disease that shifters get sometimes when they’re too malnourished as infants. It would’ve killed him. It cost a lot to get the healing he needed. And I didn’t have the money. I couldn’t rob a bank, or something, because then what if I’d gotten caught or killed? Arik would’ve died.” He shrugged again, as if he hadn’t just taken his story from horrific to worse. “So I found alternatives. The underground fighting pits paid better than my day job, but I had to take an advance against my winnings. A big one. The fucker

Madam Amelia seemed to know this as she nodded her head at me. “Now what? You can’t break your vow. What will you do? You can’t have a Wolf Rider running around Astoria.” There it was. She knew what her daughter was. The half human part of it was the least of it. The fact that she was a Rider—a creature that could control a werewolf with a simple command. A creature that ruined my family's life. A creature, who must be destroyed before it gains power. There hasn't been a rider born in half a century, and even before, there was only one that ruled Astoria.

His black hair was trimmed and looked nice in bringing a curl to the corner of my lip. “We need to prepare for a war with the ignorant rogues. That Lindsay bitch, along with her twat daughter and husband, are stirring up a hell storm because I supposedly took their pup,” Styx said, using finger quotes. Rolling my eyes I growled bitterly. “Can't they fight their own battles? You clean up nicely, old man,” I commented from the living room. Hearing his chuckle I smiled then asked if all his men joined him. Shaking his head, he sighed and said, “Some preferred to join the rogues, which sucks because I will have to kill those I once considered friends.”

Allistar POV Today is my 18th birthday and i cannot explain how excited I am to find my mate, i've been waiting for her since I first found about about mates, which was when I was 10 years old. So, yea I have been waiting for a long time and all I can hope for is that she is kind and maybe just maybe a good fighter. The last one is mainly becasue I am the Top Warrior of my pack, the Opal river pack, and it would be a dream come true to train with my mate. I became Top Warrior of my pack a few weeks after my 16th birthday. I had always been an amazing warrior since i started training when i was 12 years old per the request of my father Alexander to ensure I make myself useful to the pack. Nor

I Continue, and he smiles “Yes, I do. Welcome all.” He says and smiles “The Warriors are Jacob, Jason, Andre, Christopher, Thomas, Michael, Jack, Oliver, Owen, and Eli,” I say and I feel the surprise from my warrior. They didn’t expect me to know their names. “I have cleared a wing on the second floor to the right. It is completely free, and your warriors have my permission to keep everyone away from there.” Carter tells us. “Thank you, Alpha,” I say and smile.