Moonrise Warriors Novels & Stories

"I will try." Luna's force departed first, thirty-three warriors moving at speed toward the western forest where smoke already rose to the sky. I watched them go, knowing some would not return. My own team assembled quickly. Twenty warriors, mostly veterans who understood suicide missions. We carried light armor and weapons designed for speed over protection. "Move out," I commanded. As we ran toward the eastern border where Garrett waited with his hostage, I felt Aria's anguish through the mate bond. She stood on the wall watching us leave, torn between duty and family.

The sounds of shouting get louder. We burst through the tree line at the eastern border. And I see him. Lucas stands at the front of a group of warriors—Bloodmoon warriors, faces I recognize from home. He's holding something. A weapon? No. A phone. Recording. "There she is!" He points at me, voice carrying. "The traitor who stabbed me! Hiding with the enemy like the coward she is!" The Bloodmoon warriors shift. Some look uncertain. Others look angry. Damian steps in front of me. "You're on my land, Lucas. You brought armed warriors across my border without permission. That's an act of war."

My eyes scanned the environment meticulously, making sure that nothing was missing because this war was an opportunity for me to finally take out Damon, to destroy him and his allies, and take back what was rightfully mine. A few minutes after the soldiers from my pack took their positions, the warriors from Moonblood Pack appeared, yelling loudly with their heavy weapons swaying in the air. There were a lot of them, even larger than my own army but I wasn’t fazed thanks to the information Beta Connor had provided us with. "Archers! Now!" Kade gave the signal and his commands were carried out. The first set of warriors from Moonblood, about a hundred of them, were shot down dead.

At first, it was faint — a distant rumble like the stirring of a great beast — but it grew louder, stronger until even the enemy forces stilled in confusion. From the eastern ridge, banners rose into view, catching the dying light of the setting sun. Silver and red, with the mark of Crescent Moon— MoonBlood Sigil — stitched across the fabrics. Ranks upon ranks of warriors poured over the hill and approached like a total wave of salvation crashing towards the battlefield with one goal in mind; end the tyranny of the false crimsons. Now faced with the cause of Lunaria's troubles, Rhaella glared at the pathetic excuse of a man, her teeth grinding as she began walking in a circle with him.

He clears his throat catching Stella's lost mind. "They said that the stars are there to support the Moon Princess" he started saying. Stella looks at him, their eyes met. "They said that the Moon Princess has three sentinels, one was called birth, blossom, and death. Birth helps the Princess to grant babies, a new beginning to the people around them, and it granted motherly love. Then blossom, the youthfulness, joy, the spring and winter of life, and it says that blossom was the one helping the Princess for healing and protection. Then there is death, it gathers all the loneliness of the people, death together with the Princess listened to her people cries, and death symbolizes the ending o

Although with different spelling, but with the same pronunciation. Carra didn't know whether to feel lucky or sad. She was now in a country known as Morica in a medieval earth, under the Athurian empire. The Athurias are the ruling clan of lycans, wolf shapeshifters. In this world, there were humans, lycans, vampires and others. It seemed that she had passed through something supernatural, a portal or so, to arrive here. For a person who didn't believe in such notions, it was a bit difficult to accept. A woman in a brown garment came in through the door carrying a basin of water. She heard the young mistress called green bamboo, and she too quickly took a few steps forward. Seeing Carra awak

For that split second, in that moment, a spark of faith ignited in his chest, a single flame that would remain lit until the day he died. And as luck would have it, Aworyn finally answered, bestowing on him an ancient power with a single howl that still echoes in the night. That was the first occurrence of the hunter’s moon. From that day on, warrior wolves awoke in every pack throughout Morrian. They each had their unique ability, with venom in their bites and scratches that killed Lycans and wolves instantly. An army that banded together to defend the wolves. They were called hunters.

“Don’t let the darkness take you. Live… for both of us.” “Lucien…” Tears fell from her eyes, mingling with his warm blood. He gently touched her cheek, his smile fading. “Tonight… the moon is beautiful…” The light in his eyes went out. Evelyn held him tightly among the ashes, beneath a blood moon that was slowly fading from the sky. One final whisper carried on the wind: “The blood war ends, but the heart never truly sleeps…”

Tenny rattled off with a huge amount of enthusiasm. “No, I’m not going,” Santiago was barely hearing Tenny’s voice as he strained to focus his ears on the words that the lush, pink lips were saying on the screen. “This club is kickin’. It is absolutely chock full of young, delicious co-eds and get this…they have to come wearing a bikini top or they can’t get in!” Tenny Rodriguez was a werewolf just like Santiago and they’d known each other their whole lives. Even though Tenny was from another pack, they'd always gotten along and his friend didn't hold it against him when he'd abandoned his ancient duty for a relatively human existence.

Dormant lunar blood, awakened by desperation and need. Damien lunged. His teeth found Thaltos's throat. And this time, when he bit down, Thaltos could not escape. Could not fight back. Could not survive. The red light went out. The ancient evil that had hunted lunar wolves for three hundred years went limp. It was over. Thaltos was dead. Silence fell over the clearing, broken only by the heavy breathing of wounded wolves. The moonbeam faded. The eclipse continued its natural course. We had won. Barely. By the thinnest of margins and with help from beyond the grave. But we had won.