Romans & histoires Path Of The Ranger Book Series

“Whatever he was screaming about.” Torin frowned. “I don’t know what money he thinks I took. The only thing I stole was proof. Data. Names. Routes. This.” He tapped his chest, where I knew he was used to carrying secrets. My head spun with it all. Carlos. Military. SOG. Burdock. Ravens. Two funerals for one man. “What do we do now,” I whispered, exhausted. “You,” Torin said, and his eyes went tender for a heartbeat, “are going to heal. You’re going to let Rook and the Ravens and those two idiots by your door run interference. You are not stepping into this line of fire again.”

The Ravenwood forest air was thick with the energy of dawn. In the early hours, mist hung low over the forest, curling around the towering evergreens and whispering through the ancient pines that marked the boundaries of the Ravenwood Pack. This forest wasn’t just territory; it was legacy, history woven with the sacrifices of her ancestors that Serena Ravenwood would one day inherit, and she walked through it now as if sensing her destiny beneath her feet, each step steady, certain.

I've been reading it, been learning about the man who saved me then held me hostage, about why he even needed me and why he's recruiting an army when he's basically immortal. "You're just a weak Lycan who can't even fight his own battles!" I shove the book to his chest before storming into the bathroom, slamming the door shut and waiting for him to go away. ——— Half an hour later, I stand in a foreign clearing that serves as a border between two villages, Ragnar beside me, a faint glow coming from his silver scythe while he blended in with the darkness. "Fitting," I mutter, hatred still flowing through my veins instead of blood.

I wouldn't have had to if I wasn't on patrol and the other Heirs hadn't seen her too. The three of us, with our soldiers, were out hunting a pack of Hollowborns that attacked one of our hatching grounds. We managed to kill some of them, until they all headed towards Thornwood. Wolves territory was forbidden for Dragons and vice versa. We had no option but to camp outside their borders, and hope the Hollowborns show up before daybreak when they would go back into hiding. I had used my powers to keep us invisible from sight. It was easier since it was pitch black last night. But somehow, the girl had run directly towards me, she saw me despite the thick cover of darkness.

Grand, with a vaulted ceiling arched high, painted with constellations and mythic beasts, towering shelves rising like walls, carved from dark oak and lined with books. “Here.” He pulls out an old book, its cover black and edged in gold. At the center gleams a golden wolf’s head, bared teeth frozen in a snarl. Behind it, a raven spreads its wings wide, poised as if descending from the sky. Grimm opens it. The pages are an old, yellowish color, but intact. “Most of the Raven Wolf King books here are written to sound like fantasy, as if he were just a fairy tale. This one’s the one you want. Depicts date‑to‑date events.”

The second he crouched in front of me, I threw both feet forward as hard as I could. My boot slammed into his chest. He stumbled backward with a curse. I immediately started thrashing, trying to loosen the ropes while slamming my body against the floor to make as much noise as possible. His face twisted with irritation as he came toward me again, moving more cautiously this time. The moment he reached for me… I screamed. I screamed as loudly as I possibly could. His head snapped toward the hallway. Footsteps. Fast. Several pairs. Relief flooded through me. Nick…

Mist curled between the trees like serpents slithering over forgotten graves. Ragnar walked through them like a god of wrath, cloaked in black armor, his golden eyes burning through the darkness. He didn’t bring an army. He didn’t need one. When he reached the heart of the forest, the scent of wolves hit him, strong, wild, and untainted. This was no mere camp. It was a sanctuary. A rebellion’s cradle. Two figures emerged from the shadows, low-ranking guards, their postures immediately defensive. “We don’t welcome outsiders—”

We stop in a city called Ranger to hit up a pharmacy and get some food. Pain killers, cold compresses, aloe, and wraps for Brandon's more severe burns and wounds. Though Rin was easily able to deaden some of Brandon’s pain, it left her with excess fire energy that she needed to burn off, which was problematic when we were trying to get away from killer corpses. Leaving a trail behind wasn’t an option.

Ragnar's knuckles whitened as he clenched his fist, his gaze locked onto Ariel's every step into the library. His hand twisted through his hair as he was transported back to the moment when Ariel had returned from the southern pack. He'd felt a shift in her, something indefinable, and now he found himself drowning in self-blame for everything that had unfolded. After decades of learning to trust again, it felt like betrayal once more. "Do you think the Alpha's son had something on Aloha, forcing her into this?" Ranger questioned, his voice tinged with disbelief, his eyes glued to the videos. The idea that his once innocent and timid companion could stab him in the back was almost unbearable.

"Look, I really appreciate you looking in on me, but as you can see, I've got a protector. So if there isn't anything else, I think I want to get some sleep, okay?" "Uh, uh, yeah, sure thing lady. Whatever you say. I have to get back to my rounds now anyway, so I'll just be leaving now." He started walking towards the trail, but he didn't want to break eye contact with that 'dog'. He finally got to the point where he was either going to walk into a tree or he was going to have to watch where he was going. The ranger finally turned his head, and without quite running, hauled his ass out of the area as fast as he could.