Red Leader Tord Novels & Stories

"It's because he wants to frame me as a harasser. He knows I've discovered his and Scarlett's relationship, so he's trying to frame me before I can expose him. I'm Scarlett's mentor. It's incredibly easy for him to frame me." Aidan tried to counter. "What proof do you have to say that?" Behind me, Camila pulled at my sleeve. She was reluctant to reveal Scarlett's trauma, and I felt the same. Yet, to bring the truth to light, we had no choice but to tear that wound open. "What proof do you have to accuse me of harassing Scarlett?" Aidan asked again. I sneered. "Calling it harassment is putting it mildly. You know exactly how despicable your actions were."

Rhett sent quietly. Waverly you got red? Aldric said already knowing. Yeah I got the bitch. Waverly growled. There are four leaders, like four generals. Red, white, steel, and black. We never could find out who the actual Alpha was but i alway felt like it was the black wolf. Once he showed up everything got worse. Red is a female and ruthless. She is known for dismembering. Steel is sneaky and will attack you when your back is turned. White, white goes for the kill. Don't play around. We only know their wolf forms. Aldric said his eyes were still on the dead wolf.

“Without wasting much time, I shall get straight to introducing the first team. They are one of the favorites to win this tournament and are led by the powerful Cheetah, Red Prince; the first team to be introduced is the Red Team!” Along with the spirited voice of Peter the commentator, a team of four clad entirely in red uniforms made their way onto the field. They had varying body statures, but they their auras were united and strong. The one leading the team was a lean man with a pair of light swords strapped to his back. He was a handsome middle aged man with a calm smile on his face. This man was the leader of the Red Team and the Cheetah, Red Prince. Standing behind him was a beautiful

One stood out. Dorrin. I had heard of him long before today: the Royal Commander of Eradrakor’s armies, victor of the wars that had bound these kingdoms in alliance. The stories hadn’t done him justice. Turquoise eyes like polished steel, broad shoulders, a wild crown of red curls. The kind of man others follow without being asked — the kind you would think twice about crossing. I noted him the way you note a drawn blade in a crowded room, and looked past him.

Ryle calmly asked, raising her brow. “Who are you to question?” Bruce growled. He’s one of our more traditional males who believes that women aren’t made to fight. They are made to be seen and not heard. Ryker bristled at Bruce’s comment. “My name is Ryker RedFang and she,” he pointed to his sister, “is my sister, Ryle RedFang and we are RedFang Defense, your Elite warrior trainers and my sister is your future Luna.” he smirked.

Would he show his figure? Would people be aware of his existence? Would the secrets and crimes that he had committed be unraveled? That person, can she melt the cold heart? Which would he choose? Hatred and vengeful past or love and their future? This red thread, still remembering their souls to each other.

If the guy literally gifted with calming others is falling apart, we’re officially screwed. Suddenly, light explodes across the field—brilliant and blinding. Everyone shields their eyes. When it fades, Hecate, Selene, and a massive, shirtless man are standing in the clearing. Thor. My first Norse god in the flesh, and of course he looks like he bench-presses mountains. Eight feet tall. Abs for days. A fur-lined cape. Chainmail. War hammer. No shirt. I mean… if you’re gonna make an entrance…

My home burned behind us, but my spirit refused to break. Three figures stood out among the crew, their presence commanding the very air around them. Jarl Ragnar Bloodaxe, the leader, was a giant of a man with braided blond hair, a beard woven with silver rings, and eyes the color of storm-tossed seas. His muscular frame, covered in furs and leather, bore the scars of countless battles. Beside him stood his brother, Thorsten the Stormcaller, leaner but no less imposing, with wild red hair and tattoos of ravens covering his arms—marks of his connection to the gods. And then there was young Bjorn Ironfist, the jarl’s closest shield-brother, with sharp features, dark hair, and a body honed like

I insisted on finding Orlando, but the mere mention of the Beora made Stripes snarl at me and threaten to turn Kalfar. The massive dark wood and veined marble house was also occupied by Red; who immediately mocked my appearance and existence on arrival. Red still looked the same from when I had first met him in the Base; messed maroon hair and cold maroon eyes. He had grown taller and lankier over time, which confused me since he had only been a child when I had last seen him. His attitude was still hateful and snide, like it always had been. He was the only person here that wasn’t collared like an animal, which he took great pride in bragging about.

Allona's POV: My sensitive senses are filled with the thunderous howls of my pack. Their mighty hooves send a reverberating echo, a testament of their fight for dominance and ferocity. The fog is kind of thick tonight but it doesn't matter to us. The Redwood Pack's vision is the sharpest among most of the Packs around and I know for a fact that mine is the best. I can sense that my Dad is just a few meters ahead of me with my Mom. I can smell my brother's scent nearby as well. I didn't know anyone yet who can beat my Dad in speed in his wolf form, that's how amazing he simply is.