Halo Black Spartan Novels & Stories

CoilSpear [A] - NeutroDrive Galactic “Stronghold” Tower Shield [A] - Primal Machinations “Flametongue” Heavy Plasma Lance (SM) [A] — Next to her squadron was Maharathi, led by Kali. And all 48 of them were in their Rakshasa chassis, also with hyper specialized anti-Imperial loadouts. — Squadron: Maharathi Squad Leader: Kali Loadout: - Mechanica Dharma “Rakshasa” Warmonger Chassis Type 13 [A]

The kind that makes your spine stiffen and your instincts scream run before your brain understands why. Subject 07. He was tall, lean, wearing the old Academy combat uniform — the one retired after the first Halo disaster. His skin was marked with silver veins, pulsing faintly beneath the surface like live wires. His eyes? Black. No whites. No pupils. Just void. “Ophelia Wolfe,” he said, voice flat, mechanical. “You are not authorized to carry Halo data outside the Observation Chamber.” Ophelia narrowed her gaze. “I wasn’t aware my own memories were property.”

It brought me back to that hollow place where my memories once occupied, making me realize that he was part of the memories that were wiped out. "If it isn't the arsehole I've been searching for," a snarl curled his pierced lip back as he shoulder-checked my beta and entered—uninvited. Saint bared her teeth at him with a feral growl, "What do you want?" The man, covered in tattoos and piercings and wearing full black, snarled, "I think you were on your way out." "I'm not leaving," Saint declared, standing her ground. Pride swelled in my chest knowing that I chose her to be my beta but I didn't need her here. So, when she looked back at me in confusion, I opened a mind link with her and said,

end of his POV Mia's POV That dark side of mine was ready to be harnessed. I've waited on and growing impatient. It's dusk already and the moon was going to come out soon. A Human repeller like me surely have a dark side. The light side keeps me sane while the dark side wants me to go berserk and berserk I will go. Once I've killed Tartal, I will save my brother.

he spits. I squat down to his level. I raise my shirt and there, just above my waistband on my hip, is the Damned Forsaken crest of a raven with a skeletal wing and head sitting atop a skull with a halo leaning against it on one side and a gun on the other. His eyes widen in acknowledgment.

The bolt hit, and a figure materialized—a sleek, matte-black armored soldier with a visor that glowed a predatory crimson. The Spectre didn't fall. It absorbed the disruptor charge and lunged, its arm ending in a retractable vibratory blade. Elias parried with the reinforced barrel of her weapon, the sparks illuminating the grim face behind the visor. Kian was engaged with two others, his movements a blur of tactical efficiency. But the Spectres were faster. They moved with a synchronized grace that was unnerving, one suppressing Kian with high-velocity darts while the other flanked.

Alpha Avery Spartan is furious to see our mate, naked in that bastards arms. “Surround them,” I order my warriors who veer off from me. I can hear Haley is still putting up a fight. “Go to hell,” she hisses at him and I can’t help but feel pride at how strong she is being at this moment. “I am surprised you are still awake, but no matter. You can’t move. It’s time to return you to where you belong.”

All she wanted to do was rest her sore body until she didn’t feel pain anymore. AFTERNOON came when Drake’s Beta suddenly rushed towards him with a pale face. “Alpha!” Beta Dillon called. Without an obeisance, he continued. “Alpha, there’s an unforeseen attack from the outside this morning. Some of our soldiers were slaughtered,” he informed, trembling. Drake’s forehead knitted. He looks livid and ready to kill someone mercilessly. “Who the fuck are they?” “Humans, Alpha,” Beta Dillon answered. Drake balled his fists; his face became expressionless. “Are you sure about that? Don’t you know the rouge actions lately? They’re quiet and not attacking anymore after the last encounter with them.”

I was studying his bare face unhurriedly. He wasn't perfect physically. In fact, Jonas wasn't my ideal type based on his physical appearance.He had no stubbles which I didn't prefer since it didn't make him look mature. His eyelashes were short but I liked the shape of his brows which was angled. The shape of his face was heart, complimenting his slicked back black hair that sometimes is down, sometimes it looks like a bangs. His eyes were lifeless. You can't tell if he was tired or he was annoyed. When he was annoyed, he looked like the typical bad boy on a movie.

Harlow utters as he uses his index finger to point at the top of the building which towers behind us, my office. About twenty top-skilled snipers show themselves for a jiffy. “Bow down to me,” Harlow demands, and Santino groans. “Bow, or lose your men,” Harlow tells him. “You will wipe them out, either way, I’m not going down without a fight,” Santino utters. “The choice was yours, don’t tell me I didn’t warn you,” Harlow utters as he snaps his fingers and all forty of Santino’s men drop dead. “What?” Santino is shaking.