Fallen Comrade Table Novels & Stories

There was regret in his dead grey eyes as he finished that sentence. The man in front of him stood around two inches taller, his hair also dark brown though it was cut shorter on the back and sides but slightly longer on the top. He looked at his brother his ocean blue eyes, bloodshot from sleep deprivation. Another door opened and a woman entered, she had raven black hair braided into a fishtale plait and her blueish-green eyes filled with saddness though she had a look of determination on her face. She was short and skinny, but she had some muscle definition in her arms. "It is done." She stated loud enough for both men to hear. "She is gone." A tear slipped down her cheek as the taller of

We walked through the gate and went further into the eerie quiet graveyard. My legs became heavier and heavier as I approached my brother's tomb. Aria took my hand again and squeezed, giving me the silent comfort I needed at that moment. We stopped in front of his tomb and I couldn't control the tear that rolled down my cheeks as I read what was engraved on it. 'In loving memory of our son and brother, Daniel Mason Mendez.' I stared at the tomb in silence as memories of my brother flashed through my mind. "Let me give you some privacy." Aria handed the flowers to me before walking away.

The hood fell off as she did, and her full face came into view. She was everything— Everything I hated. Everything that disgusted me. My breath was caught in my throat, and the basket slipped from my hand as I stared at her. Minerva. For the first time in three hundred years. Standing before me was the same woman who had dipped a knife in my mate's heart during the war. The merciless traitor of all times. The one person I'd failed to kill then. There she was, standing before me, living and breathing. But she smelled human. How?

Because tonight, I wasn’t just burying Matteo’s legacy—I was ending it. For good. I stood at the head of the long oak table in what used to be the estate’s war room. The men seated around it weren’t friends. They weren’t allies. They were the last of Matteo’s loyalists, the remnants of his rule, the ones who had been clinging to the power he’d left behind like vultures picking at a corpse. But the corpse was gone. And so was their time.

Chapter 138: The Council of the Unbound The iron table inside General Malvon’s captured command pavilion did not feature the smooth, polished grain of the Oakhaven redwood; it was a heavy slab of cold-rolled boiler plate, bolted down onto a frame of industrial steel pipes.

Nova frowned, her gaze moving from one Alpha to the other. “…Am I missing something?” Kael rubbed the back of his neck. “We’ll talk about it another time.” Xavier couldn’t resist. “So that’s a yes.” Kael sighed. “Xavier…” The larger Alpha laughed quietly, clearly enjoying Kael’s discomfort far more than he should have. “So,” he said, his expression returning to that of an Alpha, “what’s the status report on your end?” Xavier’s smile faded as he shifted into business. “We lost five warriors during the retreat.”

The faces of the fallen, etched in her memory, swam before her eyes, their silent pleas echoing in the stillness of the night. The mourning extended beyond the formal ceremonies. In the quiet moments, in the shared meals that felt heavy with unspoken sorrow, the allied packs wept openly, sharing their memories, their pain, their shared loss. They spoke of their fallen comrades, their voices thick with emotion, their eyes glistening with unshed tears. They retold tales of courage and resilience, of acts of selflessness that transcended the battlefield, tales that highlighted the strength of the bond that had united them in the face of overwhelming adversity. The bonds forged in battle were no

He shook his head. “My mother’s.” The elevator dropped them into silence. Dust. Metal. A darkness that didn’t feel abandoned just waiting. Inside, it looked like a cross between a command center and a shrine. Walls covered in string-mapped files. Photos. News clippings. Hacked ID badges. And in the middle? A table with twelve names carved into the surface by hand. Aria walked to it slowly. Ran her fingers over the etchings. Blackbird Daggerfall

I'm afraid your dad might die of a heart attack if you don't give him any calls. 'Yeah Yeah.' The conversation carried on and I fell asleep on the sofa watching Barbie of Swan Lake. it was 2 am and I woke up and headed to the underground fighting arena. God, I love beating the shit out of men. Tonight's prize was 500k for the last man standing. I entered the arena and out my name on the ballot and placed it into a box. Eventually I was called out. Fight after fight. Only meant victory after victory. 'Tonight's doghouse champion is Rosaline Danvers.'

Camillia and Marco ended up dying in an accident. It was suspected to be a revenge killing. When the news popped up on my screen, I was rushing to complete my thesis in the library. The comment section went into a frenzy. [An accident? Please. Camillia is the Colene family’s spy! That child is Marco’s! The Don despises traitors, so he took them both out himself!] I stared at the screen, and my fingers trembled. This was not how it happened in my memory.