Guerreiro Novels & Stories

But she was ready to act, to do whatever it took to protect her father and keep her secrets safe. The darkness outside seemed to press in around them, but Miriam felt a sense of determination rising up within her. She would do whatever it took to protect her father, even if it meant putting herself in harm's way. And as she looked at Ben, she knew that she would do whatever it took to keep him safe too. He was innocent, unaware of the danger that lurked in the shadows. But Miriam knew, and she would do everything in her power to protect him. The game was on, and Miriam was ready to play. She would do whatever it took to win, to protect her father and keep her secrets safe. And she would star

Jhoanna’s voice cut through the air, but I wasn’t listening. This man was too close. Too familiar with her. And my mate was standing in the middle of a battlefield, covered in blood and breathing hard. Some of our warriors are spent, but I’m glad no one died. My claws pressed into his tunic. “I’ll ask again. Who on Goddess’ name are you?” His silver eyes flickered, irritation briefly crossing his face. Then, just as quickly, the smirk returned. “Relax, big guy.” His voice was smooth, but there was steel underneath. “I’m Mael.”

There hasn't been a rider born in half a century, and even before, there was only one that ruled Astoria. How could I destroy her now? Her being half human, and Astoria’s vow made this complicated. “Now what indeed.” I sighed out loud. The best thing I could do was keep her in sight and make sure she didn’t realize her powers. Snuff it out before she did. I had Max. He was the most knowledgeable in werewolf law. He could help me. “I want—what’s the thing's name—? “Jezebel.” “I want Jezebel to come live with me. She will stay under my clan, as my ward.”

The Red Moon Pack warriors, fueled by a shared purpose, fought with a unity that transcended the challenges posed by the formidable rogue invaders. Jack and the warriors with him clashed fiercely with the relentless onslaught of rogue intruders. The air was already thick with the scent of sweat, blood, and the distinct musk of the opposing forces engaged in a desperate struggle for dominance. He positioned himself at the forefront of the skirmish and unleashed a primal roar that echoed through the wooded terrain. His eyes, ablaze with the intensity of battle, scanned the battlefield as he assessed the ebb and flow of the fight. The southern border was a battleground, and he was determined to

"Hail Samarth, the Lionheart! May your name forever be etched in the annals of our kingdom's history!" A deafening roar erupted from the ranks of Samarth's warriors. The air reverberated with thunderous applause, echoing off the battle - scarred landscape as Samarth stood triumphant, his armor battered but unbroken. A warm smile spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with pride and relief, as he gazed out upon the sea of faces that had stood by him through the trials of war, and blurred was the sight for him, of the ocean of dead bodies lying across the land, bathing in blood and cut limbs of the rivals.

Alessandro smiles at me, lifts his head from my legs, and presses a light kiss to my stomach before getting up and putting on some black checkered pajama bottoms but still shirtless and his tattooed chest is exposed, so fucking hot. "Let's go get you some breakfast" He said and I slipped my panties and shorts back on, he stretched his hand out for mine, and as I started to walk, I stumbled a little, which obviously made him grin. "Zio zio!" Enzo yells, clinging onto Alessandro's legs as we enter the kitchen; Alessandro lifts him up and carries him with just one arm. (Italian Translation. Uncle)

He’s a peace maker, quiet, always thinking of others. Lastly there is Andrew. Oh, Andrew. Name of Greek origin, as well. Meaning: “Manly, courageous warrior” and he is every bit the warrior. He is the strongest in our pack by far. He’s also a hot-head and has some anger issues. Some women are attracted to that.

Laura’s heart dropped the second she heard the name. “Garrick.” A warrior stepped forward from the crowd, and everything about him screamed danger. He moved with deliberate slowness, boots crunching against the packed dirt. His shoulders rolled back lazily, showing off muscle layered over more muscle. Scars crossed his chest and arms—not random marks from accidents, but clean lines that spoke of countless battles. Battles he’d won. This wasn’t some random fighter. This was a veteran and an actual killer.

Meanwhile, at the center of the group , a harsh battle was about to begin. The representative of the Alpha Calhoun's pack charged undisputed toward the center of the enemy troops. His rank 4 body was unmatched in that environment and he swung his greatsword freely, making a way toward their middle. Aldophus ducked while switching to his primal form, seeing the hooded cultivator getting close but Lane promptly moved in front of him. "I will handle him, don't worry young master." He spoke, fixing his gaze on the incoming warrior. The representative didn't waste time, he swung vertically his big sword toward Lane.

"You have done enough harm to the humans." Giselle straightened her back, stiffening her resolve as she faced the pointy-eared menace. "I will not go back there. Never." The Warrior reached to his side and drew the Guardian Sword he wore, the bronze blade pulsing its bluish light, his countenance never changing. "If you do not return, then I have no choice but to kill you. Would you not rather live?"