Fantasy Western Novels & Stories

"The Founders think they can break the board because they’re losing the game! They think three thousand miles of jungle is enough to keep us away!" He pointed a finger toward the western horizon, where the sky was just beginning to lighten with the false dawn. "They forgot who they're dealing with!" Dax roared. "We don't need drop-ships! We are the Iron Wolves! We are the Revers! We don't fly over the road we own it!" Jax slammed his gear-axe against the asphalt, a feral grin returning to his scarred face. "Blood on the asphalt!"

The drama that was playing on the stage was about the little boy who , a special born who killed his mother, the Luna of the pack. " I hope we are following." Ruckus said, eyeing Derek. He smiled. It was obvious Derek was getting uncomfortable. " The story is about a young special born wolf who took the life of his own mother. " " That's strange." Alpha of the blood river pack said. " Quite sad. The boy mus be a curse to the pack." Ruckus giggled. " I bet he is. Someone like that gas to be a monster that will keep killing without stopping. " He eyed Derek.

She began to fade with the darkness until no trace of her was seen. Lucia jerked away to earth, panting heavily like she had just run a marathon. Strange, she could remember everything she discussed with her mother. In almost all cases, she barely remembered what took place in the dream. That was a sign... The Witch-Wolf is about to be born... "And where are you headed, Jackson?" A voice trailed him as he sauntered through the thick forest after the meeting of his pack in the forest. He felt heavy because like all other times, he had been frustrated, insulted, and used.

And as if by magic, words began to appear before my eyes, weaving a tale of destiny and prophecy that sent shivers down my spine. I gasped, throwing the book on the floor as I stumbled too, the shock of seeing words appear on their reeling in my mind. Carefully, I crawled towards the open book picking it up as I read the words written in it. "In the twilight of celestial reign, When shadows dance and stars align, A werewolf princess, born of moon's domain, Shall rise to claim her birthright divine. Bound by fate and ancient ties, She walks the path of truth and lies,

The imperial capital was a city of gilded masks and whispering secrets, its marble towers reaching for the heavens while its streets pulsed with the blood of the forgotten. Nia had walked its stone paths before, as a child, holding her mother’s hand as they shopped for food. Now, she walked as an assassin, her every step calculated, every breath measured. She was no longer Nia Wolfsong—the girl whose village had been burned and destroyed. Now, she was "Mist Fang," the most elusive, feared assassin in the empire.

Maera “Congrats Maera, you're carrying the Alpha's pub,” the pack's witch told me. Asta was the witch of our pack. Ulfsang(Wolf Song) was a small pack of shifters that lived on the northern side of the realm. She was called a witch because people believed she could cast spells and turn people into squirrels.

Victor immediately ran to get the pure white outfit. Costumes with capes with very large hats are often seen in Western fantasy stories; people wearing them will have extremely high figurative character. Cyrus nonchalantly accepted it, then walked towards the van, didn't take a few steps, turned around and called to Claude, "Still not coming over to help?" He didn't know what Cyrus was going to do, so he just followed him into the car. Cyrus ordered the props staff to bring black ink, poured it into a basin, then dipped his robe in it, and ordered Claude to stir with chopsticks.

#MMWard W. Farnsworth W. Farnsworth lives and writes in Arizona. Over two hundred fifty of his short stories were published at a variety of venues from London to Hong Kong in the period 2014 through 2018.Published in 2015 were his collected Arizona westerns Desert Sun, Red Blood, his thriller about cryptocurrency crimes Bitcoin Fandango, his John Fulghum Mysteries, Volume I, and Engaging Rachel, an Anderson romance/thriller, the latter two by Zimbell House Publishing.Published by Zimbell House in 2016 and 2017 were Farnsworth’s Pirate Tales, John Fulghum Mysteries, Volumes II, III, IV and V, Baro Xaimos: A Novel of the Gypsy Holocaust, The Black Marble Griffon and Other Disturbing Tales, Amo

Chapter 39: The Western Friction The grand strategic maps of the petrified cedar war table had expanded once more, moving past the smoldering naval ports of the East and the frozen, severed mountain valleys of the Northern Territory. Beta Vance had spent the hours before dawn cleaning away the dark iron markers of the Eastern pureblood dynasties, replacing them with a complex grid of emerald-green obsidian tokens representing the dense, fortified valley-states of the Western Alliances. The Western faction was an entirely different structure from the rest of the continent; they were not ruled by single tyrants or ancient bloodline councils, but by a militaristic federation of twelve high-rank