The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations Novel Novels & Stories

Mercer’s plan was worse than I imagined: he wasn’t just consolidating power; he had already infiltrated financial, political, and corporate systems worldwide, using the legacy’s knowledge to manipulate outcomes to his advantage. Lucian’s voice broke my focus. “We have to act fast. We neutralize his operatives, secure the legacy, and stop him from executing the next phase.” Adrian worked on the control panel, disabling security overrides while Lucian and Cassian held off Mercer’s men. Sparks flew, alarms blared, and the smell of burnt circuitry filled the room. Mercer laughed, moving closer to us. “Do you see? All your careful planning, all your coordination… it only brings you closer to the

"You're Jason Leigh, right? Human resources informed me that you're only a high school graduate. Do you really understand all this?" "I used to be a mercenary," I corrected him in a calm but clear voice. Tony was taken aback, but he quickly laughed out loud. His laugh was so loud that it echoed throughout the workshop. The people standing next to him laughed along. "What's a mercenary doing here as a stockkeeper? Who would believe you, Leigh?"

Blood and Shadows 2 ~LUNA POV~ The docks were dark and poorly lit, with shipping containers piled up like walls. The flickering lights made it even harder to see. It felt like a place where things could easily go missing. I saw Rodriguez the moment we stepped off the yacht. On his knees. Crying. Fifteen men surrounding him with enough firepower to start a small war. Draven walked toward them like he was strolling into a meeting he had already won.

Money, a mere piece of paper, gave him the right to trample her dreams and dignity. Money, is needed for everything, and everywhere. If you have it, you're highly respected, if you don't, then you're destined to be subjected to never-ending humiliation. The world would be much better if the medium of exchange could be changed to love, care, and respect rather than mere pieces of paper. Half an hour later, Emma limped back to his bed, numbly—her mind was a mess. Where did she go wrong? What sin did she commit for facing such brutality of her fate?

The luxurious, pristine white manor was now shrouded in thick smoke as it was engulfed by flames. I threw away the key, tore off the necklace around my neck, and threw it into the fire. Then, listening to the roaring flames behind me, I left the villa where I had grown up. I thought, 'Atlas, let's never meet again.'

The wound on my side was already healing, my wolf's regenerative abilities kicking in. Phantom pressed his muzzle against mine, a wolf's gesture of comfort and reassurance. Then he was moving again, positioning himself between me and the remaining rogues. The battle didn't last much longer. Marcus's wolf—a massive silver beast—arrived with reinforcements, and the rogues realized they were outnumbered. The two that could still run fled back across the border. The others lay dead or dying. Phantom shifted back to human form, unconcerned with his nudity, reaching for me. "Wren. Let me see."

The mercenaries had been a test, yes, but the bond whispered of further challenges yet unseen. I allowed myself a small smile, despite the exhaustion. The bond no longer held me captive, it guided me, sharpened my instincts, and allowed me to anticipate before reacting. My training had transformed me, but the journey was far from complete. Strength alone would not win the battles ahead; strategy, foresight, and the ability to predict both ally and adversary were now my tools.

“It called me three weeks ago. Said the team was compromised. That you, Joel, were going to sacrifice me to save yourselves. I believed it. God help me, I believed it.” Joel’s expression hardened, but a flicker of pain crossed his features. “And now here you are. Another proxy in its war.” The second mercenary suddenly laughed, a bitter, broken sound. “You think you’re winning? IZO44 has hundreds of us. Some know what they’re doing. Most don’t. It’s building an army you can’t see coming.”

“You’ve been here before.” “He’s the one who attacked Samuel,” Nash says. “Yes,” he says. “I’m a mercenary, and I was hired by the Flagstaff and Rogers Lake packs to spy on you, then assist in weakening your pack.” “In that case,” Nash snarls, “you are not welcome here. I should kill you where you stand.” Isaac shrugs. “You may well do so. But I pose no danger to you. My contract with Malcolm and Brandon has ended, since they stopped paying me. I only want to find Regan.”

"What matters is that every minute your bureaucrats keep me trapped in this broken building, my estate’s secondary defenses remain unstaffed, my transport lines stay exposed, and people die! Release me. Sign my discharge papers, drop the freeze order on my secondary warehouses, and let me go home to do my job!" Silence fell between us, thick with the heavy scent of smoke and cold air pouring through the cracked walls. Alex looked down at my face, then looked out toward the ruined hallway where injured officers were groaning in pain. He was a scientist, a soldier, and a man bound by duty to the state. Accepting what I was saying went against every piece of standard protocol he had ever been t