Marvel Marauders Novels & Stories

“And that it not going to happen if you are all fighting like a bunch of rats in some pod.” His expression shifted. Nathan glanced at me, curious but not surprised. “Marcel is unstable,” I continued quietly. “Dominic stands between him and destruction. The council is restless. Rogues are hungry. Packs are divided. And as far as the rumor goes, your little rogue has managed to contain a beast that would be more than willing to take over if Marcel simply ticked.” I stepped closer, my voice lowering. “All it takes is one thread to snap… and everything unravels.”

The kind of look that made your skin crawl. Great. I hadn’t even been here for 24 hours, and I already had an enemy. “That doesn’t seem like a friendly look,” I muttered, tearing my eyes away. "There are no friends here. No allies, no company," Marvel said, her tone serious. "We exist for one reason—to fight for the Don. Familiarity makes you weak." Her words settled uneasily in my chest. "Stay away from people. Keep your head down. And for no reason should you try to defend yourself or match their energy—"

Marcus Ruvia just continued his exit from the abandoned building as if he didn't hear anything. Marcus Ruvia was known for being a ruthless, dominant, and powerful young boss of the mafia in the human world. He is very tall and muscular. His delicate features and obsidian eyes made him look mysterious and aloof. His aura imposed that no one should try to mess up with him or else they had their own death wishes.

He had just admitted it. Maverick burnt the Night Pack.

Aldrich's POV I had been busy with trying to finalise the acquisition of the bar where I met Mara yesternight when my wolf started becoming restless and even my chest twisted painfully. I had disregarded it as nothing, until my wolf echoed that Mara was in danger. I didn't waste time. Me and my BlueMoon Reapers MC rode here on our power bikes and here we are, standing in front of the modest mansion that Evander told me belonged to the Hartwells.

Third Person POV. Marcel's mansion is brimmed with burly men. His small army of eight men who were huge like Greek gods. Three among them were wolves. The very first set of men he converted into his army. The rest were humans, sired to him. Marcel basked in their loyalty, something he wished to enjoy once he eradicated Logan and Slayers to become the ultimate alpha. The eight burly men stood before me in a circle as Marcel paced back and forth, waiting for Yato.

Monolith’s death—guard her, kill! Mara moved right, cropped black hair glinting under a hood, brown eyes fierce, dagger drawn, its blade gleaming, palm scar raw but steady. Her leather tunic was slashed, arm bandage tight, guilt over Milo fueling her rage, Jasper’s warmth her root, Sam’s trust her blade. The iron scent choked her, runes’ hum a taunt, the monolith a target. Ember, her wolf, growled, fiery, tail lashing. She’s pack, Mara. Blood binds—cut, guard!

They were a family after all, more so than any mortal knew given their hidden beast blood and as a result bonded via a loyalty unwavering. Marrok Phalen Kenneally aka Brick was the de facto leader of the club whom had put the idea together after catching a biker gang unawares during one of his patrols to keep mortals away from the Moonwood pack's territory. The idea of open roads and endless freedom appealed more and more to him especially when he and his father regularly clashed about his future and potential duties as Alph of the pack when his time came to step down. Brick had no intention of assuming the old man's mantle, especially when the last thing he wanted was to be stuck amid the e

My grandmother was bleeding from multiple wounds, her movements becoming sluggish. We were losing. Then the factory wall exploded inward. Not from specialists. From something else. Wolves poured through the breach. Not pack wolves. Not specialists. Rogues. Dozens of them. Moving with coordinated purpose that suggested this was not random. This was planned. Leading them was a figure I recognized from Dante's club. Mara. She shifted to human form, weapons blazing. "Moretti sends his regards. And a reminder that anyone who attacks his assets faces consequences."