Spirit Warrior Book Novels & Stories

Ger uttered annoyingly. "Don't talk to me kitten" Silcierra smiled innocently at Ger but the taunt in her voice was visible. This made Ger become livid. The ground below shook from the sheer of its power. But Silcierra did not mind it. Ger always like to demonstrate the capacity of its ability. It is said that fire are the most impulsive but that statemet was not true, becuase Ger prove it as the earth elements Spirit Gaurdian. He's always grumpy, stoic and serious. Always loved to pick a fight. "Stop it, this instance you two." The most authoritative voice boomed loudly. Spirious, the son of the king of the Spirit kingdom. Spirious, the Guardian of light. Their prince. "What of this commoti

CHAPTER 1- For a girl like me, being unusual is difficult; I was born with a gift called "Real Sight," which allows me to see things that regular people cannot. Spirits, apparitions, elements, and mythical creatures, to name a few. As a result, I preferred to avoid social situations. Others who are solely concerned with themselves can never understand how to live in the dark, surrounded by these strange creatures. After my father died, even my mother abandoned me. She cut me off from my only brother and placed me under the care of my grandmother.

Samantha is making sure that her old pack is the first to experience her wrath. The next night, the warriors, witches, and several security technicians went to the Redwood Pack. This was the time to break through all barriers. Samantha was going to blow up their security centers first, then she was going to kill Alexi. She was the one that ruined her life because of her very existence.

he explains. Only five people are capable of forging those swords? "Can I ask what makes them so difficult to forge?" "A vessel weapon is a living weapon. They are forged with the intent to house a spirit. If a spirit chooses the weapon as its vessel, that weapon gains the power of the spirit," Fimrouck explains. "Vessel weapons gain their power from spirits? I had no idea." A spirit in a weapon, I never knew such things were possible. "Most humans don't know much about vessel weapons. After a vessel weapon has been forged, and a spirit chooses it, a name must now be given to the weapon," he continues.

They turned, finding the first person, and began to spar; starting with the basic movements Teal and I had been teaching them. I felt evocative, lifted. Then I felt Conri surge through me, his honor, his virtue, and his nobility shining like a beacon inside me. "Yes," I whispered as my mind came to terms with my decision. By the end of these games, Oliver and Jack would meet my wrath and I would have Vargr’s head.

Upon it sat a single book bound in cracked leather, sealed with a symbol that matched the mark on my chest. I reached for it. The room pulsed. And a vision seized me. 4: Fire’s Origin I stood in a different time in the beginning. Before kingdoms. Before bloodlines. The Spiral was raw magic then, untamed and pulsing through the earth like veins of molten gold. Malrik stood atop a mountain, arms lifted, summoning the first firewalkers. They rose from ash, born not of flesh but will. Guardians. Pure. Bound by the Spiral’s law.

The burn of the brandy scorched its way down my throat—a sharp, welcome fire that silenced the noise in my head. Lucas, never one to let silence breathe for long, spoke again. “Speaking of losing your mind,” he said, his tone shifting from mockery to something more serious. “I sought some spiritual guidance on your behalf.” He pulled a thin, leather-bound book from inside his coat. It was his pocket scripture, a book of ancient pack laws and prophecies he carried everywhere. Sliding it across the table until it rested near my glass, he told me to look at page forty-two. He tapped the spot with his finger.

I tell her, remembering I am now her new tutor. "Okay," she sighs. "What would you like to read?" I ask, and as if I made her day again, she smiles brilliantly and answers: "Ovid's Metamorphosis!" I can't help but laugh at her enthusiasm. "Why that book?" I am intrigued a little girl would be so excited to read a book meant for college students. I should know. I had to read the book as part of my mythology elective. "Because of the gods and goddesses!" She simply answers.

She pushed that down deep, sipping from stored bags in the fridge. Rain hammered the windows that Tuesday night. Lydia sat at her desk, sorting through a box of new books. One caught her eye: Spirits of the Wild: Bindings and Releases. The cover was cracked leather, smelling like dirt and old forests. She flipped it open, her fingers brushing over faded words in some ancient tongue. "Just a peek," she told herself. Curiosity burned in her chest. She read the spell aloud, soft and quick, like testing a locked door. The air changed. It got heavy, like before a storm. Candles on the shelves flickered wild, shadows dancing on the walls. A rumble started low, from the book itself. Lydia's hands s

I knew exactly what was coming for me if I didn't round up this spell, and fast. With one last burst of power, I finished the words, and yanked harder on Cora's wolf, Althea. I heard the sound of something breaking, and in the next moment, Cora screamed, her eyes flying open but remaining unseeing. The sound was raw and hoarse and horrible, but with it came the one thing I wanted. I guided the wolf spirit into the urn, and sealed it, just as I heard thundering footfalls coming down the hallway. Shit.