Deadly Retreat Novels & Stories

he shouted over the chaos. Aidan stumbled behind him, pale and breathless. “What’s the plan, Ethan?!” “Survive first, talk later!” Ethan snapped, leading him through a maze of overturned furniture, shattered fountains, and bullet-ridden pathways. The retreat was brutal. Ethan lost three men in quick succession as Luciano’s forces flanked them, their screams drowned out by relentless gunfire. The remaining men pushed on, forced into a desperate sprint as bullets zipped past their heads and tore into the ground around them.

More screams rang out, and Henry's men fell like dominoes, their bodies piling across the ground. Henry did not hesitate and barked, "Retreat! Andrew! Don't get caught up… Pull back!"

None of them moved, and they all had their eyes fixed calmly on me. “No, Alpha Logan.” Elder Edgin finally replied, and there's no hint of respect whatsoever in his voice as he speaks. “What I offered was a logical suggestion. Our men are tired, constantly falling under the slowly advancing enemy. Our healers on the battlefield are exhausted. At this point, it would be logical for us to sound a retreat.” There it is again, that word. I hate that word! “We don't retreat!” I snap with my fist, coming down hard on the arm of the throne. “Ash Claw Pack never retreats!”

“For years, my boss managed this company. You feigned death and returned without an ounce of gratitude. Instead, you shamelessly humiliated her.” Then, he addressed Amelia, “You, her own flesh and blood, chose to kick her when she was down instead of offering help.” Finally, he looked at Alex, disgust clear on his face. “She raised you with love and care, yet you repay her with betrayal and mockery?” He stepped back, glaring at them. “You three are the most despicable people I’ve ever encountered.” Nathan’s face darkened, but he forced a smile, trying to salvage the situation. “President Bates, you must’ve misunderstood. We had our reasons—”

The blame rests entirely upon my actions. His arms tightened around me. Against my hair he murmured the words, "No, it’s not." My attempts to halt the progression proved futile. The sensation of it taking place reached my awareness. That spiraling sensation. The oppressive burden suffocates and compresses. The event extended beyond her mere passing. This event marked his demise as well. The memories returned with relentless force, sweeping through my consciousness as an unyielding tidal surge. An additional firearm discharge occurred. Another friend gone. A lifeless body rests at my feet.

The king said but Derek wasn't interested in any of the sob talk, he just wanted to down to business and take what he proclaimed was rightfully his and what should have been his all along. " I guess you don't know the quote ' keep your friends close and enemies closer". Derek said and waved his hand, and a part of the palace exploded making everyone run in different directions. Andrea was so scared and didn't know what to do, her family was there risking their lives and there she was hiding behind the pillars on the second floor. She didn't feel brave at all, she felt like a weakling and hated the fact that she couldn't do anything to help them.

As I do so, a strange explosion fills my stomach, triumphant that finally there's a replacement of Jordan Crown's beauty. A bit skips as our hands intertwine. Time seems to tick beyond count and age blurs into each other. The entire universe collapsed back to BigBang and was reborn. Stars and planets dies and scatters into the dark nothingness. For these five seconds of staring, nothing else holds significance. Just two windows and a gaze into a moment. Nothing else. Just a stare before the explosion. “Keila Taylor.” We shake hands.

she whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips. ...... Vlad burst into Eton's office. “You can’t be serious!” Only when his boss raised his unimpressed eyes from the computer, did Vlad realize what a blunder he’d made. “Excuse me?” Eton asked in a very cold tone Vlad forced himself to meet his gaze unflinchingly. “I’m sorry, Eton Domino, but I can’t agree with your decision to take the girl to Switzerland. It’s a huge security risk—she might be spotted at the airport or—”

The air horn blew for the third time, but it was much further away now. "Oh my God, Thomas." My hands covered my mouth. "Tell me they're not doing what I'm thinking. They couldn't be. Not after Derek." Zombies of all shapes and sizes, in all states of decay, continued pouring out of the trees. This horde was colossal. The color drained from Thomas's face as he watched the multitudes of biters trampling over the terrain below. The air horn blew again, far away this time. "We have to do something." My hands landed on the top of my head, clawing through my hair. What in the hell could they be thinking?

Dimitri Volkov is the Ice Prince of the Bratva—cold, calculating, and utterly untouchable. Nikolai Petrov is the Demon of the Syndicate—volatile, unpredictable, and obsessed with one thing: destroying Dimitri. For three years, their war has painted the city red. When a fragile truce is called, they meet on neutral ground at the Colosseum, an underground theater built for blood. But the meeting is a trap, and they're ambushed by a rival gang looking to take them both out. Forced to fight back-to-back to survive, they escape—barely. In the aftermath, something dark and dangerous begins to grow between them. The hatred is still there, but now it's laced with obsession, with desire, with a