Smash Marth Novels & Stories

Marinah is King. My mate doesn't have a clue what's happened. I open my arms and she walks into them. The men around us fade. She bends slightly to get into her favorite Warrior position when I hug her, but it's impossible, and Marinah looks down on me. "Did you shrink?" she asks in confusion. "No, baby." I pull her back and adjust her in a slightly different way. "You okay?" "I don't know. I don't remember what happened." "You killed Smythe."

Not a single wisp of energy escaped it. She had done it. She had mastered high-level energy manipulation. Now she could split her power into a hundred such needles in the blink of an eye, striking every node of the annihilation array with perfect precision. Marth stared at the tiny silver needle, her expression softening into a rare smile of pride. “Your talent is even greater than your mother’s was.” She walked to the window and pushed it open a crack, gazing up at the nearly full moon hanging in the night sky. Her face turned grave.

He avoided that blow by ducKing. He quickly kicked the third guard in the chest and heard him slide on the cold floor. One down two to go. He thought. He swung with his sword hard hitting the ax and destabilizing it in the guards hands. The other guard raised up his sword high above his head, and with lightning speed Marlin put his knife under his chin and took it out before the guard fell to the floor dead.

In a fit of rage, she grabbed a nearby flowerpot, intending to strike Christine on the head. Underestimating an adversary was a common mistake, one that Martha had just made with Christine. Instead of the anticipated impact of the flowerpot, Christine swiftly sidestepped the attack, sent Martha sprawling to the floor, and retaliated with forceful kicks to her stomach and liver, much like the ones Martha had once dealt to her. Additionally, Christine pulled her hair with such force that a few strands came loose in her hand. This was a moment that had replayed in Christine's mind countless times. After her father's untimely death and the betrayal of her stepfamily, she sought solace and streng

“Hands up.” He smiled, slow and cruel. “You smell like silver and sweat, sweetheart. You sure you wanna do this?” “we'll see,” she said and.... Fired. The silver bullet missed on purpose, ricocheting off a pipe behind him. A warning shot. Kane roared and charged. Martha met him halfway. The fight exploded in seconds... Violent, fast, no hesitation. He swung wide. She ducked, slid under, elbowed his gut. He caught her by the throat, slammed her against the wall.

. It was a terrifying, beautiful smile. "It tasted like the sun." THE WOUNDED "Help!" Kai’s voice came from the porch. We ran over. Martha was lying against the wall. Her overalls were torn, soaked in blood. The Reaper’s impact had shattered her ribs. Her breathing was wet, shallow. "Martha!" Leo scrambled to her side. "Easy, boy," Martha wheezed. Green sap mixed with the red blood on her lips. "I'm... I'm an old root. I snap easy." "I can fix it," Leo said, his hands glowing. "I can rewrite the damage." "No," Martha stopped him. Her hand gnarled and bark-like gripped his wrist. "Don't waste the juice on me," she whispered. "I'm done. The season turns." She looked at Maya. At the green child

I could feel the weight of Martha's gaze upon me, her presence like a looming shadow that threatened to engulf me in darkness. With a sudden burst of speed, Martha lunged forward, her fists flying towards me with deadly precision. Instinct kicked in as I dodged her initial attack, narrowly avoiding her blows as they sailed past me. But Martha was relentless, her movements fluid and calculated as she pressed her advantage, driving me back with a relentless barrage of strikes.

Amelia's POV "It smells like home." I murmured the words, sipping the tea Martha had insisted on making. The aroma of cinnamon and ginger filled the safe house kitchen, a scent so pure and simple it cut through the lingering stench of corporate betrayal. Martha sat opposite me, her silver hair shining, her eyes filled with a quiet, knowing kindness. Her arrival had been the most stabilizing force in weeks. "That's just a little comfort, dear," Martha replied, patting my hand. "You've been fighting a war, and you forget you need tending, too."

A wall of white water, ten feet high, burst into the Cathedral. ​"Hold the line!" Martha’s voice echoed through the cavern. I saw her through the glow, her eyes burning with a fierce gold light. She stood at the front, her hands pressed against a stone pillar. She wasn't just holding a rock; she was using her exiled strength to anchor the very earth itself. ​The water hit her. She didn't move. She stayed like a statue of salt and stone, her teeth bared in a silent scream of defiance. She was buying us seconds with her very life.

They smiled at her, then they started looking around. Martha smiled brightly and said, “Girls, I have met my soul mate. He is the most handsome man I have ever seen.” Kate shook her head and replied, “I think you are exaggerating, my friend. Thorne Ferguson is the most handsome man I know.” Martha smiled brightly and said, “Mr Saxon and Thorne Ferguson are identical twins. However, his elder brother’s features are so perfect that he looked like a painting come to life. He has mesmerizing ocean-blue eyes that seem to draw you in.