The Old Guard Novels & Stories

He tore his gaze away, forcing it down like it might burn him. The orchestra shifted, cueing him that it was time for his toast. Adrien strode to the small platform at the room’s center, every step measured. The crowd hushed as the lights were angled toward him, expectant faces tilting up. He lifted his glass, his voice steady, sharp with command. “Ladies and gentlemen.” The words came out smooth, edged like glass. “Tonight isn’t only about a deal. Tonight we celebrate power. Cross Enterprises doesn’t bend. It breaks what stands in its way. To dominance. To the future.”

They tried everything to persuade him, but the old man would not budge. "Quiet! Don't spout such nonsense. It's disrespectful to the Three Immortal Guardians," the old man whispered with a mischievous glint in his eye. They were in Peakview Mountain, under the strict surveillance of the Trio Alliance Club. Every word, every move was being watched. "Screw the Immortal Guardians. They're just fairy tales, invented to scam people out of their money," the old man's family finally lost their composure. Life had been a roller coaster ever since the old man got mixed up with the Trio Alliance Club.

“I know we’ve had a lot of them so far, but I hope you aren’t tired of picnics yet.” I laugh, the sound catching on the lump in my throat. “We don’t have too many date options, unfortunately. And there’s more to this spot.” His arms come around me, holding me against his chest. I lean back, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around me. “Before Ashborne found the location you know as our compound, most of the old guard were essentially nomads. They passed through many different locations and believe it or not, this was one of them,” he explains.

It was Luke. ​But as he stepped up to the podium, I realized with a jolt of horror that the "angel" I had cupped the face of in my bedroom was gone. This man’s face was a mask of stone. ​"The shares will remain locked," he spoke into the microphone. His voice was deep and sharp, cutting through the room like a blade. "Cromwell Legacy does not negotiate with minor shareholders who lack vision. If you aren't with us, you are in our way."

We work every day to be the best in everything. We knew that not only we were Maddison’s mates, but that position also came with a title attached: being the alpha king of the north. The best trained me and those were the four alpha kings and the queen’s guard, since she herself made me part of it. As a member of the Queen’s Guard, my life was dedicated to protecting and caring for the Sovereign Queen. Today, it was Queen Emma. But soon, it will be Maddison. Over the past sixteen years, the purposes of the Queen’s Guard have changed to make it effective. Therefore, its members belong to all the institutions of our society.

But before they could advance, an elder's authoritative voice pierced the suspense. "Enough!" Elder Rowan's command swept through the assembled packs, a ripple of respect that still carried the room's tangible energy. "This venue is for discourse, not destruction." The murmurs quieted, eyes drawn to Elder Rowan as he stepped forward. His presence was commanding, an emblem of the wisdom and order the old guard represented.

It was definitely not from Silvercrest. Then he remembered where he saw it from... it was in an old council record. It belonged to a group that had existed before the current territorial system. They were called The Guardians, an old network created to protect people whose identities were considered dangerous to reveal. The group had supposedly been disbanded decades ago, or at least that was what he was told. He couldn't exactly trust anything he had been told at this point. Damian's eyes narrowed. If the Guardians had been involved, Adrian Vale hadn't been acting alone. He couldn't have done it on his own.

The heavy bronze gates of the Grand Council Hall loomed like an ancient relic of a bygone era, their hand-carved reliefs depicting the original unification of the seven regional packs. For centuries, these gates had represented unyielding law, stability, and absolute tradition. Today, they stood flanked by twice the usual number of council guards, their silver ceremonial pikes gleaming nervously in the bright midday sun.

"You’ve mentioned that. Multiple times." "Because you need to understand the stakes, Coralina." He finally shuts the laptop, the click sounding like a gunshot in the quiet cabin. He turns his head, and the intensity in his blue eyes makes my breath hitch. "The South is the Old Guard. They are the keepers of the ancient bloodlines—vicious, traditional, and utterly unimpressed by bank accounts or social standing. They are the only pack in the three territories with the numbers and the raw, feral power to truly challenge my authority." He stands up, the cabin suddenly feeling half its size as he moves toward me.

A pause Then “We are what you replaced” Silence hit instantly Not because we didn’t know what that meant But because we did The Old Guard had not been a single enemy It had been a system of families, alliances, and buried influence networks that had ruled before us And we had dismantled them piece by piece until nothing visible remained Or so we believed Camila finally spoke “Why show yourself now” Another pause Then the voice replied “Because you finally built something stable enough to inherit” Daniil’s expression tightened