Maharlika Warrior Novels & Stories

" Makaria shot back at the cluster of women surrounding her and her task at hand. She had rested only a short time last night, her two projects by the name of Warren and Pomelia keeping her up. Pomelia's emotions were strong last night. The young novice was petrified of being in such a new place with no guidance from her lug of a mate. Warren was walking on eggshells attempting to make his mate comfortable but Pomelia still wasn't. She worried all night and eventually ended up outside, her prayers and fears being spoken out into the wind and carried up to the goddess. Makaria felt for the mortal and did something that was neither wrong or right. A quick ball of light in the shape of a wolf s

She then held my hands and started caressing my cheeks. Maria: Evelyn, were you trying to kill yourself? I became shocked by her words. She was looking at me sternly which slowly made me drop my gaze. She sighed and patted my head softly. Maria: Evelyn, God only put hindrances in the path of those warriors who are capable to fight with them not for those who easily surrender and put their weapons down in defeat. You are also a warrior Evelyn. You're a strong girl. Don't let yourself down at any cost.

"Go to Seven in one pack and get all the warriors there, make sure they come tonight. I won't tolerate any more killings from that monster, it's either he flees or he appears and faces death." "Should I call Princess Tahira?" He asked and I shot him a weird glare. "Are you crazy? Tahira doesn't even know her name, talk less of joining In a fight right now, Just get the men and don't breathe a word to her. She knows where to find me once she regains consciousness." I told him and he nodded. I walked down the dusty path that led to the river to have a warm bath.

The heat of his body enveloped me, and a sigh almost left my lips. “...I am the backbone that gives the Blue Lily pack the strength and courage to stand in the face of our adversaries. I am the heart that pumps the blood of vengeance through the veins of our warrithehee mastermind behind every scheme we have used to conquer our enemies. I am the bane of my enemies and the light of my people. I am their greatest weapon. I am Regina Shepherd, the fucking queen of war, and when I say that this raid isn't going to happen, then it wouldn't happen. ” I turned from his green orbs and stared into the gray eyes of Killian. His face was frozen in a blank look before he cleared his throat and spoke.

Asher said and everyone hooted as the bulky red-head walked out, looking smug as shit. “Greg…” A tall, lean-bodied guy walked out from among the hunters, looking pleased. Of course, this was a matter of honor. I waited with bated breath as one by one, Asher announced the names, waiting to hear him call my name. “And last but not the least…Malachi,” A black-haired guy walked out, waving and fisting the air. The warriors and hunters hooted and cheered while I stood there, my mind blank. He didn’t take my name.

I'm made of sharp edges and vengeance, and I will not crumble. "Eleven years. You should be more informed," I snap. It's a foolish mistake to irritate a Warrior, but I'm tired of being undermined and treated as a disposable toy. He clenches his fists. He's the perfect impersonation of danger, and for the first time, I wonder who exactly I'm dealing with here. "Careful," the word barely escapes his gritted teeth. "We're done here. I will only answer to your Alpha," my voice comes out cold and detached.

“Without you, we never would have gotten to Craig or gotten our shit back. Plus, some of that money is rightfully yours anyway - that piece of shit owes you reparations for the way he treated you.” I stared at him, the tears now falling freely down my cheeks. “One more thing,” he said, reaching into the bottom drawer of his desk. He pulled something out, tossing it across to me. “Your other cut.” I caught the vest, my fingers running over the smooth black leather. The back patch proudly displayed a flaming skull with crossed pistols underneath - the Warriors MC logo, with “Ol’ Lady” emblazoned across the bottom. I gasped, looking up at Jake. “Is this…?”

"She brought us this glory with her wisdom and courage." The warriors' eyes turned to me, filled with anticipation. Was he finally going to give me my due? "Let us give the loudest applause for our Luna, Mia!" The applause was sparse, hesitant. I saw the warriors exchange confused and angry glances. Old Marcus, a grizzled veteran, clenched his fists. My second-in-command, Sarah, bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. They all knew the truth, but no one dared to speak. Mia glided onto the stage in a flowing white dress, looking like a pure, innocent angel.

The remaining workers in the courtyard instantly dropped their tools, their ears pinning back as a heavy wave of dominant, unfamiliar magic crashed over the valley. The main iron gates shook as a column of dark armored warriors marched into the territory. They weren't wearing the fur and iron of the northern packs; their armor was made of polished midnight-blue steel that caught the pale sun. At the front of the column walked a man who made even the tallest vanguard soldiers step back in apprehension. It was Malakai. He was the Supreme Commander of Gina's original pack, and her father's most dangerous warrior.

Instead, she gathered her golden skirts and sat gracefully on the edge of the mattress, placing herself at Mwajuma’s eye level. "I am High Matriarch Malkia," she said, her voice a soothing balm. "I am the mother of this city. And you, my fierce, beautiful warrior, are the miracle my guards have not stopped whispering about for three days." Mwajuma shifted uncomfortably. She was used to being called a witch. She was used to being called a monster. She was not used to being looked at with such gentle, unadulterated admiration. "I am just Mwajuma," she said, her voice gruff, defensive.