Tawnypelt Warriors Novels & Stories

As we descended into the subterranean colosseum, the noise became overwhelming. Two thousand warriors filled the stone tiers of the cavern. These were the Shadow Warriors—the battle-scarred outcasts of the Dead Woods. They were alphas, betas, and omegas who had been rejected by their birth packs, criminals who had survived the brutal winter wilderness, and veterans of forgotten border wars. They didn't wear uniforms; they wore heavy furs, iron chains, and leather straps over bodies covered in jagged claw scars. They were savage, and radiated a volatile pressure.

"Have you thought about accepting my invitation? After you graduate, it would be a great opportunity for you to train in the WW Force." When Callie heard what Clyde's Uncle said, she was taken aback and remained attentive to the two's conversation. "Uncle, I'd rather finish what I'd started. I wanted to be a police officer," Clyde replied. "Being a WW Force soldier isn't too different from being a police officer," Clyde's Uncle Lando replied. "Isn't Spencer your friend? Don't you want to avenge his death against the werewolves who killed him?" Clyde gave Lando a weak smile and said confidently, "Uncle, I think that I can still get the justice that Spencer deserves in this field."

Kent responded. “Okay then, I guess we have a place to start,” Ryder said. "Do you remember how many fighters he has?” “Not too many,” it was now Peter speaking, “maybe about one hundred to one hundred fifty rogues and about fifty of those are actual warriors that were banished, lone wolves or left their pack voluntarily. “How good are they?” Ryker asked. Peter snorted, “they will be no match for RedFang warriors.” “That’s all I need to know,” Ryker said, clapping and rubbing his hands together. “Caleb, come with me, we have teams to put together four teams to go on and find that asshole. Sorry, Ryder.” Ryker wrinkled his nose.

a sharp, mocking voice sliced through the murmurs. The crowd parted instantly. A tall, heavily muscled female warrior stepped into my path, completely cutting off my route. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a tight braid, and her golden eyes burned with pure, unadulterated arrogance. "And who exactly are you supposed to be?" I asked, refusing to back down an inch. "Tanya," she said, leaning down slightly to look me dead in the eye, her breath hot against my face. "A real warrior of the Shadowpelt pack. A hunter. Not a broken, useless human who got dumped by her lover within a twinkle of an eye."

The sword began to tingle in his grip as Rhychard blocked another swing. He could hear the words the other Warriors were chanting and soon the words began to make sense to him even though he couldn't make them out. He focused on Mephalus, but he repeated the same chant as the others, reaching with everything Kree taught him into the sword. He felt the other Warriors, felt their lifelines. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a tall, thin elf with long blond hair look at him, a smile on his face. Then he nodded at Rhychard and melted into the air, his life force flowing toward Rhychard and entering the sword once again. The blade pulsed with the added energy and Rhychard felt it grow more soli

No matter what Orion projected or tried to get me to feel, it wouldn’t have any effect. I watch as Orion stands next to Jasper, dressed only in shorts as well. His eyes scan the crowd for me and he winks. I give him my best smile. Yes, people are watching and we must give them what they want. “Lastly, and a late addition to the tournament was this wild card, our own Shadow Warrior, Tyson Collins formerly of the Blood Claw pack,” my father says, waving toward Tyson. Immediately the entire left side of onlookers jump to their feet and cheer loudly. It literally makes the air thicker somehow and more electric. Tyson gives them a small beauty pageant wave and I nearly snicker.

He opens the door and Adrianna lunges at him while giggling and talking a million miles an hour about her souvenirs that her Aunt Lisa had gotten her. We head inside where Shane pulls me into him and walk straight over to where Austin and Candice are standing with an older couple. The man has a cut on, like the rest of the Warriors, but this one looks different. It's worn, a few holes in it, and on the bottom of the Nightmare Warriors lettering, it says Chesapeake Chapter. "Shane?" "Hmm?" He answers stopping with Adrianna still flung to his chest. She somehow managed to grab hold of one of the mini sandwiches from the platters of food.

Emberstar did care about his kits, whether he wanted to to admit it out loud or not. Eventually, Wrenpaw became Wrenflight. Ebonypaw became Ebonypelt, and Driftpaw became Driftwind. All four newly named warriors looked as if they were ready to burst with pride when the Clan chanted their names. Even Oakfire, Acorntail and Spruceleaf cheered their names. Flamestrike glanced at Reedriver in surprise to see that the normally grumpy RiverClan warrior was doing the same as he sat beside the SkyClan she-cat.

I agreed and walked with him, further away from the rest of the brawling. Walking with Tanner he ambly chatted about his life. Tanner was the lead warrior in this pack. He had a mate, who was once a rogue and stumbled upon her when he was on his first ever patrol of the border. He has a pup on the way and I have never seen anybody prouder of their own family. As we got away from the warriors, we took position facing each other, now in full fighting position.

There’s a brisk chill in the air as winter is drawing to a close, me and twelve other young women and men sit around the training area looking at all the fighting equipment there was an array of training mats, boxing gloves and wooden swords of all sizes. At the age of eighteen you were allowed to train to be a pack warrior and today is our first day of training for The Blue moon pack.