Totem Warrior Novels & Stories

Roman POV I got an urgent mind link from my warriors to get to my brother Reign’s home, my pulse hammering in my chest as I raced there. I contacted by mind link my oldest brother, Hamza, and a few trusted warriors to meet me there. Calling on my wolf, I pushed through the terrain as fast as I could, grabbing only a t-shirt and joggers, which I tied around my neck to change into later. Every second mattered. Every second was a chance to prevent more suffering.

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.”

By tradition, as long as I, the White Wolf, remained a member of the pack, my bloodline power would protect the clan through the totem, even if I wasn't physically present at the altar. "Great Moon Goddess, witness our union and grant us prosperity!" Alexander and Lucas, looking high-spirited and proud, held Sarah's hands. Sarah was practically vibrating with triumph, casting arrogant glances at the Elders below. Together, they dripped their blood onto the wolf-head totem of the pack. Sarah looked shy and demure, already fantasizing about the glory that was about to be hers. However, in the very next second— Crack. The totem, which should have erupted with blinding silver light, let out a cr

"Be careful, son; We cannot burn bridges at this critical moment. Warriors from the Silvermere pack are the finest breeds of Warriors to ever exist, and Thorne knows this. Maybe he wants to be cuddled and begged…" "Do I look like I'm in the mood to cuddle anyone who isn't Maya?" I interrupted my grandfather. "He's your friend. You had best talk to him; otherwise, he'll pay with his blood this time. Every pack in the White Mountain Region belongs to me. I own their warriors, too; I should not be begging and cuddling to have my warriors come fight for me." The place crackled with tension until Gamma Darius broke it. "What about Maya's ritual with the captured Ferals?" Darius asked. "Is she mak

One evening, as I walked through the camp, I spotted Eden engaged in a discussion with some of the younger warriors. He had taken on the role of mentor, sharing stories of our recent battle and teaching them the importance of strategy and teamwork. The glow of the setting sun bathed them in a warm light, and I felt a surge of admiration for my son. He was growing into a leader, embodying the spirit of our pack.

If the boy was discontent enough, he may be useful. The young man eyed him haughtily. "Vidar." The boy drew himself up and puffed out his chest. Brand took a bite of stew to avoid laughing at the display. "Ah, son of Odin. A fine name for a fine young warrior," Brand told him after swallowing a bite of the mystery meat in his bowl. Vidar preened under the compliment. "My father is one of the Chieftain's most feared warriors. I will be in his personal guard one day."

His ears were pierced, and his beard had a grayish tint to it, but other than that, he was the picture of calmness. They are the werewolves of Vanara Pack, including the Theta Wolf Azeil Liam, Beta Geri Jaxon, assassin werewolf Triple Changer Oz Theodore, who was a spy and trainer of the scout wolves. The name Triple Changer was given to him because he could transform himself into three forms depending on the environment: human form, werecat, and werewolf. The lead warrior, Ultima Wolf Ray Marcus, trains the warriors of the Vanara pack. Howl Wolf Thor Evans is the horn keeper of the Vanara pack and second-in-command of the wolves.

Or had I lost too much? But there was no time for doubt. I had to believe that the totem would grant me the strength I needed. I had to believe that I could still be the warrior I once was. Because if I didn’t… we would all fall. As the last rays of the sun dipped below the horizon, I made my way back to the camp, my mind already focused on the journey ahead. The sacred cave awaited, and with it, the power to finally put an end to this war.

When he returned to Thunder Bay Pack at age sixteen, he brought her along. She was a White Warrior wolf, a wolf who wasn't bound by the mate bond or pack rules, unlike a typical werewolf. White Warrior wolves were born fighters and loners, exposed to harsh, life-threatening conditions by their parents from a young age. They were usually drawn to the alphas of various packs, probably because they are equals in strength and endurance.

But they must change at least once every forty-eight hours or the gene in their blood will create havoc in their system. Hmm. She wondered what kind of havoc? "What do you think, Mischief? What would happen to them?" "Mrow." Mischief leaned back and rubbed her head against Jamie's tummy. "My thoughts exactly." "In human form the warrior men are extremely masculine. The hair on their head is thick and luxurious, their body is muscular but lean and they are endowed with a larger-than-normal penis." What? Holy shit! The pulse between her thighs woke up, thudding in her suddenly wet pussy and her nipples tingled as she stared at the drawing. How was it even possible something that large would fi