Night-runners Prologue Novels & Stories

"Before I kill you." "Rush Balista, Leader of the Hunter Warrior Clan." He smiled as he took a step forward. "Now, you... are... mine." He leaped for me, but I grabbed him by the collar and threw him through the sliding glass doors. Glass crashed outward with him, splintering into the living room as Rush fell backward off the balcony, followed by his partner. They both flailed their arms and legs in the air as they fell hard onto the grassy courtyard. They got up, and then other members of Nightshade saw us and pointed up. They started climbing the side of the Compound, headed toward us, roaches crawling after fresh meat.

Running triggered chase instincts. _*]:min-w-0"> The creatures emerged from the shadows. Definitely rogues. Young. Starving. Desperate. Their fur patchy. Ribs showing. Mouths foaming slightly. _*]:min-w-0"> "Easy," Luna whispered. "I'm not going to hurt you." _*]:min-w-0"> The first rogue snarled. Low. Threatening. The second circled to Luna's left. Cutting off escape routes. _*]:min-w-0">

“How delusional of you.” I held his gaze, savoring the shock in his eyes, wanting to absorb every second as we turned his plan back on him. “Ready?” Kaleb muttered to me. “We’ll provide you with an opening.” It took Chronicle a while to stand upright. I had fractured a couple of bones with that hit, but pain was the least of my concern. Whenever I recalled what Caitlyn, the elders, and Macai went through, it barely registered. “For my brother!” Rune charged first. He pounced with everything he had. His dagger still couldn’t cut through, but the force was enough to disrupt Chronicle’s footing, which Kaleb immediately took advantage of.

*** They ran. Not in a straight line—that would be suicide with tribunal scanners and cursed ground waiting—but in a jagged, practiced series of sprints and shadow hops. Lunaris ward‑cutters went ahead, unpicking whatever neutralizing sigils they could without blowing their cover. Nightmoor scouts flanked, noses working, ears tuned for engine rumble. Kieran and Rae rode in a smaller vehicle just behind the front runners, slate tuned to Elowen’s faint pulses. Each one felt to Daire, like a heartbeat reaching out through stone.

Jaron stood at the head of the table, all trace of humor gone. “Start from the beginning,” he said. The southern runner—mud-streaked, exhausted—nodded. “They came just before dawn,” he said. “No warning. No scent markers. Nothing.” “How many?” I asked. “Small groups. Five to ten.” “Coordinated?” Jaron pressed. “Yes.” That wasn’t surprising. “What about tactics?” I asked. The runner hesitated. “…Efficient.” Jaron exhaled through his nose. “That’s not helpful.”

This specific area ran a straight line through the city which led directly to the forest. All eyes were on Ulrich now and he was looking at the moon, ready to let out his inner voice. As the howl of the Alpha lycan reverberated through the air, the Moonlit Run commenced. The pack moved as one, gracefully bounding through the City and forging toward the forest, their fur glistening under the moon's glow. Their synchronized footsteps echoed through the woods, a harmonious symphony of primal movement.

The entrance was open. Not gaping, not blazing with light. Just... open. Waiting. *No,* I told myself. *No more temples. No more prophecies. No more—* But my feet were already moving. --- Stellan ran. The snow flew beneath his paws, his white fur blending with the frozen landscape. Beside him, Cengiz ran in wolf form—dark and powerful, his green eyes fixed ahead. Behind them, Runa and the exiles, and somewhere in the distance, the rest of the North Star pack converging on the same point.

But, he knew one thing: “Whatever happens… I’ll make sure you live, Lyra.” ****************************** Far to the north, Shadow and Runa’s paws sunk into the damp earth as they rode quickly towards Nightfang. The healer rode close behind the warrior, her mind already cycling through every remedy she might need. Dawn was still hours away, but they would not slow down. Because by the time the sun rose over Nightfang, they intended to be there.

Gabriel said, "Their ancestors were all tomb raiders. Hunter's grandfather is last in the line, but all those who preceded him are famous! I never mentioned it to you because I thought Hunter told you about who he was." "He never mentioned it." "Then have you heard of the Night Men?" "I've heard them mentioned." The Night Men were a group who rested during the day and only went out at night. That was why they were called the Night Men. Legend had it that there was no grave in this world that the Night Men couldn't find. There wasn't any grave that they wouldn't rob, either. As long as they wanted to, they would even rob the grave of the gods. Not only would they rob it, but they were also co

I knew exactly why his mark was burned into my contract; it wasn't a symbol of protection, but a permanent reminder of who owned the Ashford ledger. "He's running the column straight through the abandoned iron refinery blocks," Amira observed, leaning forward from the rear bench to track our position on the digital navigation screen. "It's a forty-eight-hour transit through dead ground. If the rival syndicates ambush us in the narrow canyons, we'll be trapped against the stone walls."