Famous War Books Novels & Stories

I also prayed earnestly that he didn’t forget me here. I spotted a bookshelf at the far end of the room and decided to look through it in hopes of finding something to read. The majority of the books were about werewolves and the pack’s history. There were also books about politics, war, and governance. I would have loved to pick up the book that contained information on all members of the Crescent Moon Pack, but I decided against it. It would seem like snooping. I finally settled on a book titled ‘The Art of War.’ Not that I was a fan of violence but I was curious to know why the author had referred to war as an art. It was such a controversial claim.

Taking a sip of my whiskey, I felt the familiar burn as it slid down my throat, praying to whatever deity would listen that it'd numb the pounding headache beginning to overwhelm all my other senses. “Fuck me,” I mumbled under my breath as I opened the book titled, ‘History of the Great War.’ It was the usual stuff, talking about the first days of humans discovering the supernatural world was real, the attacks within our governments and armies, and the billions who had died. God, it had been a cluster fuck, a well-planned cluster fuck that none of us had seen coming. The war had been going on for a little over seventy years by the time I was born, just in time for me to participate in the la

Michael asked, Alissa ventured further into the shop, she saw the sign for 'History'. Alissa turned into the area and scanned the spines. There appeared to have been two human world wars as that topic featured heavily. She picked one of the larger books up, scanning the back. Michael saw what she was looking at. “If you're looking for fighting techniques that won't help, they used their guns and planes.” Alissa mouthed the words back. “Don't ask,” he responded. “I'm looking to know more about...” Alissa waved in the general vicinity. Michael tapped at his chin and started looking at the books.

After that, I returned to wandering around the whole place, looking for the books that we were going to use. I stopped at the part where the books were arranged and took the one that caught my interest. I blew air to it to remove the dust that was covering the book and read what the title says in our own language. The Art of War. I looked into another book, the title that was written on it was Heart of a Warrior. I grinned and took other books that were needed and related to combat and being a warrior. I STOPPED by the window of this room, the assembly hall. Along with my halted steps were the pauses of the people that were walking behind me.

I wandered deeper, drawn to a section of shelves darkened with age and etched with golden dragon motifs half-melted by fire. Dragons. Every mention of them before the war had been poetic. Reverent. Sometimes, I’m even awestruck. But after the war? Barely a whisper. Most texts ended mid-century or were singed at the edges as if someone had tried to burn more than ink from the pages. I ran my fingers over the broken spines of books that had once held legacy and power and found only gaps. Seraphine’s name was mentioned only in passing. A battle here. A speech there. No dates. No quotes. No truth. Just myths.

“Ariadne.” Even the books here were ones I’d already read repeatedly. There were only so many times I could read about the '100 Greatest Battles of Wolf Kind' or 'The Twenty Steps of a Successful Luna' before beginning to hate even the thought of picking a book up. But even if I asked someone to go to the library for me, it was unlikely there would be many books in there that I hadn’t already read at least once. 'Three hundred and eighty-four… three hundred and eighty-five… three hundred and eighty-six….'

But on the lower shelf, pushed toward the back like something filed away rather than stored, I found it. No title on the spine. I pulled it free and opened the cover. “ A Complete Record of the Human Management System as Established by the Wolf Council in the Third Year Following the Great War’s Cessation,” I read out loud to myself. Great War. The same war, Mye had mentioned. I carried the book to the chair by the dead fireplace and sat down. The first section was bureaucratic—council minutes, resource allocations, the dry language of people building something terrible and calling it policy. I moved through it quickly, scanning for substance.

They took off like shadows slipping between trees. We searched the cliffside, but the rancid odor drowned out everything. Hours passed. Rage and hopelessness battled in my chest until Jesse’s voice cracked through the link: ‘Alpha—behind the falls. A cave. Tunnels. Old ones. We found canisters—full of feces and blood. Same damn scent.’ My heart plunged. We knew those tunnels. Every royal did. They were the hiding places of women and children during the Great War. An inside job. Someone who knew our history. Someone who wanted to defile it.

– I blurted out with an air of skepticism, almost spitting out the coffee I had just sipped in my mouth. - Relax… we are not going to burn down the lab or anything. Since your project also depends on him now, well, we need to guarantee he's kept alive. - She winked. - Right? - You have to outsmart him. War tactics also include playing the role of the silent, peaceful, lovely enemy, who is always ready for any attack. Preparation is everything, darling. It's half the war won. - Okay? - I must confess that there were times when Susie surprised me, or scared me. And that was one of them, and I just could not decide which was it this time. It could easily be both.

I can’t remember our pack ever going to war with any other packs except rogues, and even then, we only fought when they attacked us in our own home. “We did what had to be done. All is fair in war, and in war, one side must lose for the victor to emerge. They’ve already caused us so much, it’s only right we repay the favour twice as blunt,” another man spoke, and the rest of the people grunted in approval.