Red Leader Tord Novels & Stories

“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.

He was completely exhausted as he crashed down on a vacant chair. His phone rang again abruptly. He brought out his phone to see who the caller was, his phone ID showed 'Mr. Red.' Mr. Red was one of the most loyal friend to Vladimir and after a war with werewolves years ago, Mr. Red had volunteered to be in charge of the regional secret house here in Los Angeles.

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.

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…

Finding the hallway clear, I pulled her out of the office and led her up to a secluded corner of the rooftop. The moment we arrived, she violently yanked her hand out of my grip. "You dragged me all the way up here, so you better have something incredibly meaningful to say," she fired at me, her eyes blazing. "Because I am in a shitty mood right now." I licked my lower lip and adjusted the lapels of my jacket, trying to channel my usual on-camera confidence. "Well, my name is Russell. Russell Miller. You've probably heard of me, but I'll keep this brief—"

History was being written then and there, the Calyx pack witnessed the unnatural sighting of the first eye-color changing wolf, with the rank that was considered to be the lowest. Amidst a frenzy of staggered breaths and wildly beating hearts; stood a Red-Eyed Omega, fierce and defiant in all its glory.

Aria’s POV Her lustrous wavy copper-red hair spilled out of the hood of her cloak and flowed down to her shoulders, contrasting the dark heavy cloak she had on. Her bright emerald green eyes gleamed with an unreadable expression as they stared into mine, with the hint of a smile tilting her blood-red lips.