The Warrior's Path Novels & Stories

Erriene said in that soft but firm voice of his that always made Alarick’s crotch give a twitch. Kill him, a mocking voice said in his head, He disrespected you. He took the sword and dragged his finger on the carvings. It was Maudinian. ‘Dir ylemi er zi nie rata cogadh anns treubh.’ (There is no war in the tribe.) A quote from a frost giant’s legend, about a great frost giant warlord and his weaknesses, his people, his family and his enemies. There was one special sword for each one of them.

Despite the chaos, I maintained a vigilant focus on Draxler, determined to unravel the truth behind his enigmatic claims. Another warrior lunged toward me, and I swiftly parried the attack. As the battle raged on, I couldn't shake the weight of Draxler's words. The absurdity of him claiming Fernanda's supposed power lingered in my thoughts, a puzzle to be unraveled in the midst of conflict. With a calculated strike, I incapacitated another warrior, my mind racing with the implications of Draxler's grandiose proclamations. The battlefield had become more than a physical clash; it was a battleground of ideologies, a struggle for the freedom to choose one's path.

My best friend Allen, Delta Heir, is already branching out into the Healing and Magic arts and its application to technology. My goal as a pack member is to become a warrior. Because I grew up chubby, that doesn't apply to me but guess what? As I said, I always carried a mean right hook with me. My weight just adds power to it. And with all the training I had received since joining the Gamma Warrior program, I could keep my shapely body and build strength and stamina.

“Because one day you will meet someone who needs you to be alive, and it won't be just to beat people up.” I didn’t respond. I glanced down at my hands. They were starting to shake, but not from fear. Not from the aftermath of terror. He crossed his arms. “I’ve seen men like you on the battlefields. Burned and broken with rage.” “I’m not angry,” I said. He raised a brow. “No? Then why’d you go in alone?” I sighed. “I just wanted the noise in my head to stop.” The warrior nodded slowly. “It’s normal. Pain makes us restless. But control is what makes a warrior.”

“Because from this day forward, they’ll see you as what you are.” “What’s that?” “My Luna. Their Luna.” I hesitated, then smiled against his shirt. “Then you better start preparing them. Because I’m not exactly the soft, smiling kind of leader.” He pulled back just enough to tilt my chin up. “Good. Because I didn’t fall in love with soft and smiling. I fell in love with a warrior.” “A blind warrior.” “A warrior who sees more than anyone else.” I bit my lip. “You’re going to make me cry.”

Killian looked over his shoulder and then turned back to the table. “That is one of our young warriors,” he said softly. I couldn’t help the look of confusion that crossed my face. “What is a warrior doing fetching chairs?” “We have a strict policy here: All warriors must learn to serve, as well as fight. They must learn to appreciate what goes into keeping a camp and compound running. I firmly believe that every warrior needs to know that the people who clean the mess hall, serve their food, and keep a fire in the hearth are just as important – if not more so – than the warriors themselves.”

It should have unnerved him, yet instead it felt like recognition, like a truth whispered to him across lifetimes, finally spoken aloud. Then Shan’s voice surged up from the depths of his being, louder and more certain than his own. “I am Bagheshan,” it thundered, each syllable echoing with the weight of ages. “The warrior reborn. The eternal fang and claw at the side of the goddess!" The room seemed to shiver around them, and Kaplan’s vision flickered—half in the present, half in some ancient battlefield bathed in blood and fire.

"They fear me. They fear what I represent—a world where their 'Old Laws' don't matter anymore. If I don't do this, they will hunt Leo until the end of time." I looked at my son. He gave me a single, slow nod. He knew the stakes. He had seen the Ninth Cycle; he knew that a mother’s fire was the only thing that could burn away the rot of the past. "I accept," I said, standing tall. "The Champion!" Fenris shouted. From the ranks of the Western warriors, a man stepped forward. He wasn't large, but he was built like a whip, his skin covered in the silver-scarring of a thousand victories. He carried two curved blades that hummed with a strange, damp energy.

I asked. “You said you wanted to pass Lucien’s test.” I nodded. “Then you have to defeat five warriors without a weapon.” My breath caught. Before I could say another word, five warriors stepped forward. I swallowed. ‘Lisa, you can do this. Kael is only trying to prepare you. Take this like Lucien’s test and fight like the fearless warrior you are’ I clenched my fists. The five warriors charged, there was barely a moment to breathe. I ducked beneath a punch and drove my fist into one man’s ribs before immediately turning to avoid another attack.

' Another warrior, Curt backed him up, yawning . 'The first training that a warrior undergoes is the art of being patient. Didn't you attend that specific training? ' My men were meant to endure harsh weather conditions, wars and everything that depicted trouble. Having them complaining for only stepping over a few shallow roots had me questioning their skills. 'There's a clearing a few feet from here. I have a strong feeling that all the answers lie there. ' Tyron wolf communicated telepathically, the sudden intrusion making three of my men jump.