Female Mercenary Novels & Stories

“You messed with the wrong girl, “ a blonde female mercenary was standing before Jason, staring him down. “You just thought you were conversing with the devil,” she drawled, “Better the devil you know, you perverted bastard,” “Madchen, she addressed her,” We will allow you to have one more shot at him if you can stand it, anything you want,” She managed to stand up straight, and take in a deep breath. She was physically spent, but something with a little less effort…

The lady was adept enough to resist my first attack, but she lost her head in the next. There are eight people left. As I stopped in the middle of their encampment, they had all exited from the woods. The crew included three women. "Kill that monster!" A girl yelled furiously. She appeared youthful, most likely the same age as me, but she was already a mercenary. I chuckled as I sprinted towards the girl and slashed her neck open. Her head dropped to the ground as blood spilt into the air. She died with her bright eyes wide open and a bewildered expression on her face.

“I am very brutal and ruthless but I have a certain respect for women and young children. I have only killed one woman in my whole lifetime and I didn’t know it knowingly. It was a stray bullet.” “You must be ex-military,” I sighed. “Something like that but still not the exact thing!” the boss replied confidently. “I work for a private organization which also runs a militia. I am a mercenary and I do everything. I can be a bodyguard, a kidnapper, an assassin, you name it. I do anything and everything and I serve only one thing in my life.” “Money!” I completed it for him. “Truly, a mercenary serves only money in his life. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Nyx roared. The Kroltan mercenary queen leaped from the smoking crater of her crashed drop pod. She swung her massive kinetic hammer, smashing the skull of a lunging Abyssal angel into a spray of corrupted, dark-violet blood. Behind her, ten thousand Bloodhand mercenaries flooded the plaza like a tidal wave of sheer, unadulterated violence. They didn't care about divine formations. They cared about the kill count. Heavy plasma fire, kinetic slugs, and brutal melee weapons wove a deafening, chaotic net of destruction across the sanctuary.

Is it because we're struggling with finances and we seem like easy prey? My parents have already thrown themselves at his feet at this point. Do they know? Or they're just playing along. "What exactly is this shady business that Jason is into?" I ask. Henley looks me dead in the eye. "Drugs, Karen." The wine glass slips from my fingers and clatters on the table cracking in the process. "He wants to use us to market drugs?" I ask in shock. "It's a really long story but MERC is on the verge of getting exposed...well Jason is actually and they need a fall guy,"

Touch them, and I’ll gut your world so thoroughly you’ll beg to be erased. She hadn’t slept. Not since that message arrived. And yet, she couldn’t break. She wouldn’t. Her obsession with Bain had long crossed the lines of logic, morality, or even survival. She raised her phone and dialed. It rang once. “Talk,” came the low, gravel-rough voice of Darius. “Recruitment begins now,” she ordered. “I want them all. The underground—the real one. Mercenaries. Assassins. War dogs. I don’t care what they charge.”

In a natural limestone bowl sheltered from the worst of the wind, the council's hired mercenary camp buzzed with cold, calculating efficiency. Roughly twenty mercenaries—hardened veterans of the southern border wars, clad in mismatched tactical gear and heavy leather dusters—sat around a series of low-burning campfires. They weren't high council enforcers bound by protocol or uniform; they were apex predators-for-hire, answerable only to whoever paid the highest bounty in silver and gold.

But before I can speak, Ben continues, his voice softer. “We’ve grown fond of Mercy,” he admits, his gaze meeting mine. “We’d hate to see someone with so much potential destroyed by a war she should’ve never been a part of.” As angry and defensive as I feel, I can’t deny the truth behind what they’re trying to say. I took a good girl, a pure soul, and I dragged her into the filth and darkness of this world. I tainted her, corrupted her. And for what? For power? For control? For the empire my father built on blood and violence?

The outsiders — our enemies think they could use it against us, but they are so naive to think that. In my world there is no place for mercy. We have a female assassin who slaughters them without any emotion. I'm so proud of her. At first, I underestimated her, thinking she could be a weakling when I was in camp to hire a female assassin and the owner provided me with her. She was a grade A assassin and I saw why. She deserves that position. Her name is Sloane Mercer. Now back to the story. "W-Why are you doing t-this to me?"

I looked sarcastically at the supposed powerful Alpha, recalling that when I accidentally burned a small piece of bacon, he threw his knife and fork at my face, finding amusement in my pain. I kicked him away, and Mark and Erbort seized him! But he still didn't give up trying to bribe Mark and Erbort: "You are mercenaries, right? I know you're mercenaries, and you're just doing it for money." He said, concluding to himself while he rushed to offer, "Look, I'm the Alpha of Red Moon Pack and I've more money than her. If you work for me as my escort and kill that woman for me, I'll offer you both a million dollars a year."