Rwby Ironwood

Lately, buying succubi and incubi online had become all the rage. I could not afford one, so I picked one up from the side of the road instead. It turned out the quality of this incubus left a lot to be desired. Not only did he have a terrible temper, but he showed absolutely no interest in me. He would rather starve than "feed". Left with no other options, I snapped a photo of his incubus mark and sent it to the shop owner, asking how to handle this particular model. The shop owner completely lost it. "Oh my god, please tell me you're joking! That's not an incubus! That's a demon! The most dangerous kind!"

When I was eight years old, Kieran Blackwood, Alpha of the Ironwood Pack, saved me from a rogue wolf den. He adopted me and said he would protect me for life. When I was twelve, I met Beta Ryan Cross. He treated me as her own sister and also promised to protect me for life. But later, these two men who swore to guard me forever pushed me into the flames with their own hands. All to please their childhood sweetheart. But when I ran away from Ironwood Pack, the Alpha and Beta both went crazy.

Under the new red sun, the mutated animals and the mutated people called "fighters" are engaged in a never-ending war for control of the Earth. When three delinquents students are given scholarships to Yellow Sun Academy, the most prestigious fighter academy, it falls to them and their new friends to defend the Earth from the animals. Can the fighter students rise to the occasion and saved all of mankind? Or will the animals finally win? (Inspired by Rooster Teeth's RWBY)

Zoya Ironwood was nothing significant. Just a star fighter at Shadow Rings. She didn't have to be significant to survive. Zoya hid her identity as an omega for years. She was mated to Alpha Xander. Everything was fine. Until her whole world collided with Ragnar Throne, the cold immortal Lycan, or in simpler terms, pure evil and destruction. In one day, everything she struggles to build comes crashing down. She is left rejected and alone. She is forced to do his bidding and endure his manipulate ways if she wants to survive. It's almost bearable... But doesn't he know the meaning of personal space? Zoya can't imagine why he is coming close to her. But if she wants her freedom, then she must study her enemy very closely. Playing a dangerous game of love is the only way to end him. But whoever falls first looses.

Raven Blackthorn, the ruthless Alpha Queen of the Ironwood Pack, has built her life on strength, fear, and an iron will to protect her pack from rogues and the watchful Council. She swore she’d never accept a mate, believing the bond would make her weak. Then she meets Ragnar Hale, a human who accidentally crosses into her territory—and into her fate. The mate bond snaps into place, but Ragnar’s presence threatens everything Raven has built, and his arrival awakens a storm of ancient magic buried in his blood. As rogue attacks increase and the Council demands Ragnar’s surrender, Raven must decide whether to reject the bond or embrace it, risking her leadership to claim the one person who might make her stronger. But as Ragnar’s powers grow, so does the danger, and together they will have to fight to protect the pack, face betrayal, and challenge a world that wants to tear them apart. Will the Alpha Queen allow herself to love or will claiming her mate mean sacrificing everything she swore to protect.

I stood at the edge of Ironwood territory, boots sinking into mud as cold seeped through my coat. I hated being this close to their land. It smelled like wet dog, testosterone, and trouble. “You’re late, witch.” The voice hit low and deep, vibrating through the ground before it reached my ears. I didn’t flinch. I refused to give him that. I turned slowly, amethyst eyes narrowing as I found him at the tree line. Guilermo Santander. He stepped into the gray light, rain sliding off his broad frame. Six-foot-five of pure menace. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, silver streaks catching the gloom, and those amber eyes—burning straight through me. “I’m not late,” I said calmly, though my pulse spiked. “You wolves just don’t understand patience.” He stopped three feet away. My skin prickled as the runes along my ribs flared hot, reacting to the dense magic rolling off him. Suffocating. Intoxicating. “And you witches don’t understand territory,” Guilermo said. He didn’t sound feral. He sounded tired—like a man carrying a century of weight on deceptively young shoulders. He leaned in and sniffed near my neck. I stiffened. “You smell like sage and burnt sugar,” he murmured, voice dropping, darker now. “It’s giving me a headache.” “Then stop breathing,” I snapped. One corner of his mouth lifted, a flash of sharp canine. “Make me.” The air between us snapped tight. My magic stirred, violet haze curling from my fingertips without permission, brushing the leather of his jacket. He didn’t pull away. He leaned closer. And standing there in the freezing rain with a man who could tear my throat out, I realized two things: Elder Sibal was wrong—Guilermo wasn’t a monster to be chained. And I was in serious trouble.