The Last Warrior Book Novels & Stories

A reminder that no matter what today had taken from us, the three of us were still standing together. I looked across the arena one last time. The attackers remained prisoners beneath the weight of our combined power while our warriors secured the battlefield around them. They had come here believing they would destroy our kingdom. Instead, they witnessed something that would become legend. The rise of the Last White Wolf. And this was only the beginning.

With an ex -girlfriend intent on getting between Parker and Kaylee and an impending war weighing down on the pack, they must fight for their relationship and their lives. After The Warrior's Woman, check out the third book in the series on my page, 'The Wolf's Claim'! Enjoy! Ashley Breanne

“And a true warrior…can’t be easily defeated by some skunks like you.” I found myself swayed by his words, truly in awe of the power of his mindset when it came to being a great warrior. His words were inspiring, and I was incredibly impressed. But my admiration for him was quickly cut short when I heard Stoic and the others were all in tears within their cell, shouting out praise for Blode. It struck me how profoundly he had touched them with just his presence and actions. This was far more than mere physical strength – he had inspired hope for all of us.

Right then, there was a lot for him to mull over. With Bertram's death, Rhychard would have thought that most of his problems would have been settled, but it seemed they were only magnified. Aradhon was still loose and very much a mystery, more people knew Rhychard was a Warrior of the Way than he was comfortable with, Buttercup was a growing witch and again without a job, and Renny needed to be announced as alive again. Why can't I ever have normal problems, like all the parking spots are taken at the mall? He sighed as he lifted an ancient desk chair and headed for the truck. He couldn't remember the last time he had a normal problem to tackle. He needed normal again, but as long as he hel

The war room was a ghost of its former self, a place now filled with the profound silence of a final, unyielding resolve. The maps were rolled up, the strategies memorized, the orders given. The last war, a brutal, uncompromising clash of two worlds, had reached its climax. Amara and Dante, a formidable partnership forged in the crucible of betrayal and loss, were a single, unstoppable force. But now, they were not just fighting for an empire; they were fighting for their family. The son, a secret for three years, was now a reality, a reason to live, a reason to fight, a reason to die.

I can be a Warrior and contribute like the rest. I sink deeper into my thoughts and think about Nalista's books and what they mean. The female Warriors condemned the men for the loss of their home planet. The men had always been volatile. When coming to Earth, the women gave the males another chance thinking the end of their planet would be enough to change them. When the male Warriors went immediately back to their old ways, refusing to learn from history, the women broke off and left the men to their own fate. They didn't want the male Warriors' violence betraying their secrets, and they no longer trusted the men to keep them safe.

I can be a Warrior and contribute like the rest. I sink deeper into my thoughts and think about Nalista's books and what they mean. The female Warriors condemned the men for the loss of their home planet. The men had always been volatile. When coming to Earth, the women gave the males another chance thinking the end of their planet would be enough to change them. When the male Warriors went immediately back to their old ways, refusing to learn from history, the women broke off and left the men to their own fate. They didn't want the male Warriors' violence betraying their secrets, and they no longer trusted the men to keep them safe.

Leno said pointedly. I fold my arms in front of me. “Anything else, Beta Leeeeeno,” I said, scoffing while dragging his name. He stepped forward, standing in front of me. “You know you are lucky it was me and not my mate,” he said, grinning menacingly. I visibly shudder. I am not a warrior. I barely went through the training to shift our first time. But Nora came from another pack. She is scary in combat. I gulped and nodded. “Good, you do have a guard outside. Just ask him what you need, and we will get it,” he said while he walked away, his back to me, waving his hand.

The only one who kept in touch after I left. Over the years, he would write to me regularly, telling me how the pack was doing. He never mentioned Damien by name, but I knew what he was trying to tell me. Damien had exiled Lila and Marcus. He knew the truth. Damien had become a recluse. He rarely left the manor. Damien's Alpha power was fading. His wolf is dying. But I never wrote back. I never showed any sign of wanting to return. Now, Elder Morrison was dying.

His eyes were wide with the terror of knowing what was happening and, yet unable to stop it. The warrior wanted to scream. He wanted to fight against the inevitable, but his throat closed, and the sound of his breath became a mere whisper. The Sand Men, their features now lost in the wind, continued to pour forth from the earth, duplicating with each fallen warrior. The ground was alive with the sound of them—the scrape of sand against the sand as they reformed and advanced, undeterred by their casualties. And as the warrior’s last breath raked through his throat, his body was no longer his own. The sand swallowed him whole, his thoughts scattering like dust in the wind until nothing remaine