Redtail Warriors Novels & Stories

" Okay, but what about my payment?" I nodded. Finding no other way to kill my time here. He guides me to the bar and steadies the revolving bar chair for me to sit. I felt strange again. No man has treated me with so much respect before. He seemed like a nice guy. We started chit-chatting, but my eyes were fixed on my brother's back. Ryder was telling me that he was the head warrior in the second-biggest pack in the world. He attended mid-semester to finish his studies.

he cut the call and put it back on the cabinet. He watched intently as Ms Charlotte having commended the two packs for the interesting battle, declared Storm Riders the winner of that battle, resulting in applause. Then she also announced that the Crimson Fangs pack had been disqualified from battling and upon reaching their land are to disband and give up possession of the land they dwell in.

Three men and one woman made their way to Adrian. Dragonshire’s Battle Warrior Lucas! Serpentshire’s Battle Warrior Raquel! Mantishire’s Battle Warrior Caine! Griffinshire’s Battle Warrior Gale! The four great battle warriors had assembled. Serpentshire’s Battle Warrior Raquel looked toward Paul and gestured at Prison 14’s tightly-shut entrance. She commanded, “Open the door!” Paul inhaled a deep breath and said, “I’ll need permission from Internal Affairs. Otherwise, I…” Raquel raised her hand and slashed it down like a blade.

The Indian women looking at her hatefully, the other men hungrily, complimenting the warrior who'd captured her on his fine catch. Standing there, head high and shoulders back. Proud. Refusing to show them any shame or fear. And then, after displaying her to his tribe, her warrior … his name would be Red Eagle, perhaps … yes, Red Eagle would take her to his home, his teepee of hides painted with crimson and yellow and black. He'd lead her inside, where a bed of bearskins and buffalo pelts would be waiting.

Little T and Coin were sprawled out in the hallway leading to the office. Bulletholes riddled the walls, the liquor bottles behind the bar all shot to hell. Jake stepped over Nitro’s body, the anger raging in his veins. They’d been good men, all of them. Michelle had been their first lady, a woman that had always smiled and looked after all of them. He was beyond pissed off. He was ready to go to war. He pushed the office door open and clenched his fists. ‘Now we’ll take what is ours.’ It was sprawled on a piece of paper on Bandit’s desk. There were only two MC’s that wanted what the Warriors had. The Reapers and the Dogs. One of them attacked the clubhouse. Or both of them.

When I was ten years old, I suddenly gained the ability to see red threads connecting people’s heads. Only those who had actually slept together would be bound by this unavoidable red line. Over the years, two extra red threads popped up over my father’s head, driving my mother to threaten to file for divorce again and again. Because of this, loyalty became the single most important thing I looked for in a partner. In the end, I chose Jasper—a modest, reserved man whose head was completely clean. On the night before our wedding, my bridesmaids hosted a bachelorette party. We played a game where whoever lost had to hand over their phone for the rest of us to snoop through. When it was my

“Our first match is about to begin. Please welcome our competitors!” Two fighters entered the ring from opposite sides. The first was a woman with her red hair tied back in a tight braid. She moved with confidence, and her stance was like someone who had spent years training. “That’s Gamma Lydia from the Blue Ridge Pack,” someone behind me said. “She commands their entire army.” The second fighter was a tall man with pale skin and an arrogant smirk on his face. He rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck as he sized up his opponent. “And that’s Gamma Torres from the Mountain Ridge Pack,” another voice added.

Jarek’s voice crackled through Kael’s comms device, sharp with adrenaline: “Movement on the western pass. They’re coming.” Kael’s heart thundered in his chest. “Hold your positions. Wait for my mark.” From the western edge of the ridge, dark shapes emerged through the morning haze. The Crimson Fang’s warband appeared like shadows cast in steel and blood. Their leader, a towering Alpha with jagged scars crisscrossing his face, rode at the front atop a massive wolf, his eyes blazing with cruelty. His pack’s banners—a tattered red fang against black—fluttered menacingly in the wind.

Synth and Drago did the same thing, and then rogues and rebels emerged from the shadows, including the prisoners who had escaped from the Hidden Valley. As the thunder strikes, the Alphas growled once more, expressing their power and rage. The clear skies with stars are no longer visible because they have been replaced by dark clouds and lightning. The warriors attacked their opponents right on cue after another lightning strike. Then, as soon as their fangs had reached their flesh, rain began to fall from the sky, intensifying their rage and desire to kill.

He smiled apologetically as he took the cup. "Xander, who else knew that you were attacking today?" I asked, wanting to get to the bottom of this just as much as he did. Xander let out a deep breath. "No one. Just the Betas. And when they summoned their people, they told them to report for training." I nodded. "So, who won?" But I knew well that there were no clear winners in war. And this was clearly a war between shifters and Hunters. "We did, but Rush Balista escaped again." Xander shook his head. "He was tipped off."