Space Marines Iron Warriors Novels & Stories

Unfortunately she did it already and was pressed against the door while she marveled at the house she would be living in. "You like it?" He questioned as he immediately began to growl, scenting the presence of other males. His hand went to her shoulder pulling her into him, as a group of males approached them. War immediately identified the group of four. More men who were deemed 'warriors' like him and Trent, but much younger. In reality they were just contracted killers...lower levels. Tier 3 killers and hunters. Trent and War were level 1, able to track and kill down most rogues that elite lycans wanted dead. That was how their pack made money, supported their young and paid the bills on

I watch him pass me and note the lettering on the back of his cut. Nightmare Warriors.

She took the blade again and swiftly cut her wrist without showing even an ounce of pain on her face. The water began to color red and she lay there with her head on the edge, a serene smile played on her lips. One wondered is this how death feels? Like a happiness after ages? Like perfectly cold water after a long run? Like life was never meant to be? ***

"We need weapons." We didn’t have guns. I had Garrick bring a few long pry bars to the loading dock. I turned on the fire hose and aimed it at the tips. "Declan, what are you doing? Washing them?" I didn’t answer. I kept the water flowing over the steel. The moment it hit the air, it froze layer by layer, building outward. Within minutes, each bar had grown a long, tapered spike of solid ice. An ice spear. Garrick stared, wide-eyed.

The controls lit up around me—joysticks, screens, a helmet resting in the cradle. I put the helmet on. The visor flickered, displaying a Heads-Up Display. SYSTEM ONLINE. WELCOME, PRINCESS MARINA. "No," I said into the mic. "I'm Marigold." BIOMETRIC SCAN... MISMATCH. USER: MARIGOLD FORBES. ACCESS GRANTED. The screens shifted. Weapon systems. Navigation. Engine status. "Engine status?" I asked. FUEL CELLS: 100%. CAPABILITY: STEALTH. SPEED: MACH 2. ARMAMENT: 2x MISSILES, 1x RAILGUN.

The out-of-control car plummeted hundreds of meters, and the moment it struck the sea, darkness claimed me. When I woke up again, I stood at the rally’s award ceremony. The crowd surged around me, immense and unstoppable. Jack and Alanna stood at the center of the championship podium, holding the trophy, their fingers entwined, speaking their acceptance speech to the cameras. “Standing here, I must thank Alanna. She’s not only my navigator, but also my anchor, the person who keeps me grounded.” Alanna lowered her gaze, smiling shyly. “It’s Jack who has the skill. He practices every day and knows every curve of the terrain by heart.”

The Warriors are now dressed and back in their cars. Four hours later, we arrive at Moonfall pack. Their pack house is a red-brick Victorian mansion. Behind the mansion is a huge temperate forest filled with redwood trees, and I bet it’s where the werewolves run and train. Alpha Dan, the leader of the Moonfall pack, stands in front of the house, waiting for us. He has black hair but some strands in grey. The welcome feels forced. It’s obvious the Moonfall pack don't want me here, but I understand why they are fearful.

Elemental fury rained down, fire, ice, lightning, bathing the battlefield in chaos and hope. And then the Humans. Aaron didn't return but the warriors were all present. Their armoured trucks rumbled in with blazing headlights . Warriors spilt from them with grim expressions and weapons forged from both metal and artifacts. They fired glowing rounds, netting down hybrids with precision, working shoulder-to-shoulder with the supernatural without hesitation.

No mercy. The concussion was apocalyptic, rocks split and heaved apart, and whole plumes of dirt rose up as if the earth got punched. Hard. Still the unified army didn’t fold. They kept their shields up , endured the storm of iron and waited, still waiting, like we had some stubborn hourglass. Through the thick, choking smoke of the bombardment the ocean boiled. Hundreds of iron transports detached from the dreadnoughts and skated across the water toward the cliffs—packed with towering Lycan warriors, bone armor gleaming like bad omens.

She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she continued watching the convoy. The lead armored vehicle stopped. Its doors opened in perfect synchronization. More than a dozen men climbed out. Black tactical uniforms. Military discipline. No identifying insignias. No visible ranks. Each carried suppressed assault rifles. "They're the Circle's Retrieval Unit," Evelyn finally said. "They don't arrest people." "They erase them." A heavy silence settled over the room. Seraphina felt a knot tighten in her stomach. Erase. Not kill. Erase.