Romantic Warrior Needles Novels & Stories

BLADE 3. Pain. It was all I felt when I shot my eyes opened. I felt so sore and tired. The memories of how Lorenzo plunged deeper into me last night filled my mind. He was so cruel to me. I didn't find any enjoyment in it at all. I tried lifting my hands and I was happy It was back to functioning. My tit hurts too as a result of the sucking he did last night.

I nodded and went to work seeing which one I seemed to have a gift for. I was sweating from every pore on my small body I had found a liking to the short sword and a katana. Blake thought it would be fitting to add some throwing knives. Sarin and Carden were already and Blake was all dressed to the nines for this battle. My brothers were on the far side of the room sheathing their weapons. My body was still flowing with raging angry power therefore my tattoos were a bright healthy glow.

I pushed my hair out of my eyes, forcing my head up despite how heavy it felt. The clearing elapsed around me like a stage I’d been thrown onto. Warriors stood in a tight circle, their bodies boiling and armor dripping from the river spray. The silver markings painted on their faces glowed faintly in the limelight. Every spear tip was angled inward, toward me and Zeus, as if I was something dangerous.

’ Calvin closed the mind link and I started to jog instead of running, now I saw my trained warriors were on their posts but they were knocked out by something, I knew something was wrong and my mate deserved to know something was happening. ‘Cal! The warriors near the border are out cold! Get the pack warriors out there many!’ Linking my mate I heard the wind change around me, feeling something was close I missed where the target was as I felt a sting hit my neck, when I went to see what it was. My hand was met with a tiny needle that I had picked out, it was however too late as my vision started to leave till I finally succumbed to it.

“She’s my daughter. And she’s terrified, I want to be there too.” I studied her for a beat, I know how to choose my battles and this was no battle I could win, I gave her a curt nod. “Stay close. You know what’s inside those woods.” Rose’s face darkened. “More than anyone.” We were moving in under ten minutes. Twelve warriors, myself, and Rose. Each of us wore a black charm strung around our necks witchstone pendants that burned cold against the skin. A protection spell carved into volcanic obsidian, forged decades ago by the last coven that dared to ally with wolves.

Varyn said smoothly, "he wasn't aware of it." “What is it?” I whispered. “The Council’s Needle,” Varyn said, almost reverent. “Forged in the old days, blessed by the Moon Goddess herself. These runes drain power from bloodlines. One precise cut and Ronan’s strength will bleed away, slowly, painfully. He will be helpless.” My wolf stirred uneasily inside me, pacing. The weapon felt wrong, alive somehow. “Drain… how?” I asked. “Gradually,” Varyn said, his voice cold. “It takes hours. Enough time for Ronan to know exactly what is happening as his power seeps out of him.”

He opened the curtains and was about to step in when he saw the warrior's sword next to his brother's knife. He looked at the bed and sure enough, Apaa's brunette hair was leaking out from Rishi's chest. They were wrapped around each other tightly. Adharva was almost thankful for the war at that moment and stepped out and closed the curtain and forbade anyone from making noise in the area and waking them up before it's time. _________

He smiled while they screamed and thrashed in agony, a glint in his eyes. Blake didn’t give up and continued the torture for hours while the few warriors that joined us kept running out to bring coffee and food. If torture were an art, Blake was an exceptionally creative artist. I had never even thought to imagine all the different ways a body could be disfigured. And as if he was a professor, Blake patiently lectured us on the benefits of each knife he was using. He showed off his clip point—good for quick, deep puncture and withdrawal. Then his drop point—good for skinning. Finally, his needlepoint—perfect for thrusting. All things I'd have been perfectly content never knowing.

War Emperor was severely injured after the previous big showdown. He had not recovered until now, but he couldn’t care less about it. The man continued to run with all his might toward them, even when he was coughing blood. He was not holding a weapon in his hand, but a silver needle as thin as a hair, the needle was longer than a finger, and it was difficult to detect with the naked eye. He rushed toward Tyr Summers and jumped up high into the sky before stabbing the silver needle into the top of Tyr’s head from top to bottom.

She was dragging her feet. Pomelia was forced to face War and she continued to look down, twisting her trembling mouth to the side. "When mates are close to one another they secrete a certain scent. You both are secreting something different. You two are mates." "I am capable of taking care of you," War consoled her as his mate silently cried. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't reject her. He needed her... "I am...I'm sure you can W-War...I just want to serve the goddess, I don't want to be with a man," she sniffled as Warren frowned. Well, he definitely wanted to be with a woman, specifically her.