Heroes Chronicles Novels & Stories

"My daughter's biological father was a war hero!" "A war hero?" Miriam blocked our path. "You say he's a hero—who's going to believe that?" She stepped closer, almost right in our faces. "I'd advise you to drop this. Save your energy and start reconsidering your options. Some schools just aren't meant for certain people." Mom's hands were shaking with rage. "What business is it of yours? What we do is our own business!" Miriam let out a scoff and brushed past us. But as her bodyguards followed, one of them deliberately shoved Mom—hard. She tumbled down the wet steps, landing in a heap on the soaked pavement.

“Or perhaps… a warden, and afterwards she refined them.” A chill moved down my spine. “Refined from what?” I asked quietly. Cian’s gaze flicked to the window, where pale daylight filtered through. “Something older. Wilder. Unstructured.” My heart beat harder, “The Lost Bloodline.” His silence was enough confirmation. “In the fragments that survived,” he continued carefully, “there are references to cycles, to an age before the Moon’s dominion, when power was not centralized.” “Centralized?” I echoed.

Malik The room fell silent after Zariah read the title. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. The only sound came from the rain striking the windows outside the safe house. After everything we had uncovered over the past few weeks, I should have been used to surprises. Instead, I found myself staring at the document as though it might somehow explain itself. Project Genesis. The words felt familiar. Not because I had seen them before. Because they sounded like something my father would create. My eyes moved down the page again. Five names sat beneath the title. David Brooks. Alicia Brooks. Gabriel St. James. Isaiah Cross. Victor Hale.

Dying during a challenge for alpha wasn't Brandt's original plan. But the fight continued and he realized it would solve his biggest problem; his lack of a desire to live. Cheri, his clan leader and the vampire who could help him heal from death injuries, was in Europe working to bring the overseas clans into the 21st century. So far, her success was minimal.

Chris grunted. Ignoring Chris's whining, "I know where our stolen shipments are." "What, how?" He put a long silver case on the table. Inside the case were various weapons intricately designed. "I take pride in introducing something revolutionary for the Crimson Clan, Gen-CW01. Genetically coded weapons developed by yours truly. These are prototypes but efficient nevertheless." We were in awe. "When did you have time to do this?" "Come on, it's me you're talking to. Nothing can get in my way when I set my mind on something."

“The Rouges were outnumbered and they knew it. The only shot they had was to attack the council head on, if they were to have any hope for a future. The plan was half-cocked and ignorant, with loose knowledge and misplaced bravery. Our fearless leader, Hanon, wanted it to end. he was younger then and stocked full of pride. The battle was over before it began. Our people split in all directions, hoping to salvage whatever was left of the rebellion. Hanon was no different. He found refuge in the small town of Mystic, hoping to lie low until the search for stragglers died down, but he was badly injured. He came here, to this very place, where he would have taken his final breaths. Then she appe

My dragon whimpered in pain too, and suddenly I felt ashamed so I turned my head to stare out the window. It is as they say, the truth will hurt. He and I are still strangers even if we share the same blood. But I won’t give up on Syria, my dragon is telling me to protect her and Brock had hurt her somehow. I will get through Brock whether he likes it or not. The drive back to the Cruelcrest Hounds Pack took almost five hours. Syria had fallen asleep in the backseat and Brock had just pulled up the car in front of Hunter’s house.

No matter how long, someday he was going to talk or confide in someone who may later spill the beans. In every battle, casualties were inevitable as sanctioned by the Geneva Convention. There were always holy and unholy troops that gave directions to the winning platoon. Solo was on the left side of the equilibrium. His presence in Subi’s life was more redemptive than it was corporative. Consequently, the young beauty accepted the consequences of her wrongdoing and promised to brave it through to the end. She planned it well and exactly as she expected, results became visible five days later.

“Our commander has received reports of human-like creatures with black eyes attacking two of the towns closest to the border we share with the humans. Apparently, these creatures have killed nearly everyone there and my people failed to kill a single attacker.” The queen widens her eyes and stares at the army commander. “It’s what the report said, your majesty.” he replies as little rivers flow freely down his face. Presently, she narrows her eyes as if peering into the depth of Gunther’s soul, searching for the smallest speck of a lie. Finding none, her face heats up with rage, but like the summer rain, she quickly regains her calm-water composure. No wonder they call her the Queen Mother.

" The race began. Each recruit had a compass, a map, and a backpack. Lee watched number ten run at a steady pace. Looks like she has a potential playmate. Well, we shall see the results soon. She walked off the field, back into the control room to monitor their movements. Back at the estate, Dash was busy preparing for Lee's revenge. He was given the responsibility to take Hannah to school and back for the period Lee led the training. He walked around the living room, shirtless as he prepared lunch for three. Wanting to be extra sufficient, he added a fourth ratio instinctively. The man wore a headphone. From where he stood, his sexy movement could be seen. His lean back was on display for a