Stick War Legacy The Game Novels & Stories

A flash-bang grenade bounced down the stairs, detonating in a blinding sphere of white light that turned the world into a vacuum of noise and glare. ​I dived for Leona, my body acting as a shield as I slammed her into the concrete floor behind a heavy server rack. My ears were ringing, a high-pitched whine that drowned out the world, but I could feel the rhythmic, heavy thud of tactical boots hitting the floor above. ​"Secure the Asset!" a voice boomed through the haze, filtered through a gas mask. "Terminate the female and the old man! The Legacy is the priority!" ​The rage—the cold, black, suffocating fury I had kept bottled up for ten years—finally tore through its leash. I stood up in th

How could he be certain that something was going to happen? Abruptly, Jaedon stood up. He had been so shy last night, but now he seemed on a mission. He dressed quickly and then told me to dress as well. I did. “We must tell your mother and brother of our plan. We have to tell my pack and warn our allies up North. I think a war is going to happen.” My heart began to race. A war? I dressed quickly in jeans and a sweatshirt and he took my hand in his as soon as I was finished. He kissed me softly on the lips, sending electricity throughout my body.

HAPPY READING, and as always I am open to answering any questions as long as it doesnt give anything away. This time I have a small question for all of you. How would you all feel if I started a group on F* just for Legacy fans? like a little book club yall could get either discuss with one another or maybe even do group Q&A's. It might also help some of you who want the Legacy update notification faster.

"But my late father left one special rule: this safe must be opened by my dear brother, Marshall, himself. Now, please welcome my brother to the stage to unveil this incredible gift worth 600 million dollars!" All eyes swung to me. I lowered my gaze, pretending to be nervous yet honored, and slowly made my way up under Abby's steady look. Wallace grabbed me by the arm and yanked me toward the safe. He leaned close and whispered harshly, just loud enough for me to hear, "Don't try anything stupid. If something happens to our 600 million dollars, you're dead." I nodded slightly, taking a slow breath before entering a string of numbers on the keypad.

"Is that what you thought? That sleeping with a woman would somehow rewire my brain? My heart? That you could fuck the gay out of me?" "No Lancaster man has ever had such desires before." His voice turns dangerously quiet, like the calm before a tornado. "Five generations of honorable men, building a legacy you seem determined to destroy." My hands clench into fists so tight my nails draw blood from my palms. "So that's it? I'm a genetic mistake? The first Lancaster to break your precious mold?"

Andriel and Taylor, holding hands, watched their sleeping son until, gradually, exhaustion overtook them, and they too drifted off, lulled by the peaceful surroundings. They both knew this calm was temporary. The rebels remained undefeated, and new challenges would surely arise. But until the next step was taken, they allowed themselves to cherish these precious family moments. Malcom symbolized the continuation of a legacy, as did the children the other couples awaited. This new cycle would bring hope and strengthen the fight for the peace both Lycans and werewolves longed for. United, side by side, as one pack, they would fight not just for survival but for the future they were building to

“Did you even see what took him? She was fast, Jack. How are we supposed to beat her?” She paused, staring at the ground, lost in helplessness. I swallowed hard and quickly scanned the area. There had to be something we could use—anything to defend ourselves. But all I saw were sticks, scattered across the dirt like pathetic excuses for weapons. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. I ran over, grabbing as many as I could, and rushed back to Beth. “Here,” I said, thrusting them toward her. She stared at me, her tear-streaked face twisted in disbelief. “You want u-us to fight with sticks, Jack?” she stammered, shaking her head as if I had lost my mind.

“twenty years ago.” Ethan’s grip tightened around the phone. Seventeen years. A strange discomfort spread through his chest. “What are you saying?” he asked. Victor’s voice softened slightly. “You were five years old when the Cross estate was attacked.” Ethan went still. Images flickered in his mind—fragmented, broken memories he had never understood. Fire. Smoke. Running footsteps. A burning pain in his arm. A woman screaming his name. Then darkness. He had always believed they were nightmares.

I wanted them to be afraid. ​"NOW!" I roared. ​Down in the streets, a dozen explosions went off at once. The rebels had planted thermite charges on the perimeter fences. Smoke and fire filled the air, and the sirens began to wail. ​The guards at the base of the Spire scrambled to respond. Two "Beast-Slayer" drones—giant, spider-like machines with red laser eyes—crawled down the side of the Government House, their metal legs clanging on the stone.

“Great, now I know I'm crazy.” Walking through the last patch of woods before she could see a small pattern of smoke, she was getting closer. “Little Dove?” Light Stick said coming into the clearing. “Grandpa!” Abey exclaimed, running into his arms. Light Stick was a warrior in his time, he was big and bulky, every woman in the camp wanted his protection. “I've missed this place, so many times!” Abey said. “Are you here on a good visit or a bad one?” he asked curiously, walking with her towards the camp. “You know the Tribe is going to be excited to see you, and how beautiful you are,” he said squeezing her closer to him.