Romans & histoires Totem Warrior

He stared at me looking serious and then said it: “The warriors from Martin, Coulter and Person packs are here, all our people is gathered so we can invoke Mother Earth power and ask for Adam health. I know we seem savages, primitive, but that’s how we are Samantha. We are not ashamed of the animal, of the wolf that is inside us, we lycans with Cherokee blood believe that to reconnect with nature can bring the cure to Adam’s body. If you don’t want to be a part of it, you can stay inside the house with Ayobe. Hunter, Connor, get Adam carefully and let’s start.” I got up and asked Hunter if I could be a part of it, he nodded. We got outside the cabin, around thirty men were waiting for us. Al

Hart hit the wall with enough force to crack the drywall, and the totem tumbled from his grip. Pain bloomed across his skull, and through blurring vision, he watched the leader crouch down and reach for the artifact lying on the floor between them. The moment those clawed fingers touched the stone, blue light erupted from the totem like someone had set off a flashbang. The creature shrieked and jerked his hand back, smoke rising from its burned flesh that smelled like a barbecue gone horribly wrong. "It bonded to him!" One of the others snarled, his face doing something truly disturbing that involved too much bone movement.

"I’ve traveled the world. Been to weird, creepy places, but I always felt safe… And now you’re telling me there are werewolves all over the place?" She turned to face me again. "This is too much." Her voice cracked. "No, no, no…" She groaned and covered her face. "Now I don’t even wanna step outside my apartment!" Despite the chaos in my chest, I almost laughed. She was all over the place emotionally. Then she suddenly snapped back. "Wait! You said you're a soldier. Was that even true?" Here we go. "Kinda. I’m a warrior in my pack." "What does that mean?"

I took baby steps forward, terrified to enter that dark forest, knowing deep down that the death god himself was probably waiting for me in there, licking his chops. The bullies had huge smirks plastered on their faces, and their leader kept staring at my totem like a starving beast watching its prey. I could feel their hungry gazes and quickly hid the totem under my sleeve. Thankfully, my uniform had long sleeves. This totem was my baby now—I had to protect it at all costs from those predators.

We are assigned duties for the pack. My mom Martha Davis is an assistant to former Luna Angela and my dad, Joseph Davis, works in one of the Alpha Jason's company. I, too, will be assigned some duty from tomorrow. But that's ok. Well, truly speaking I want to be a Warrior of our pack. Tough, and strong, just like our head Warrior, Viktor Kent. Ahh! He is soo amazing. I have been crushing on him for two years now, when I first saw him at pack house. I will be starting my training in two days and I will meet him again. Awwwww! I am so exuberant. I know the infatuation will be gone in the second I meet my Mate. The mate bond does that to you.

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.

I realized my warrior wife had a tender heart. “Shoulda lit his body on fire,” Arne said, critically. “That is the Oremgoth warrior way.” “Nothing would stay lit in the rain,” Leila said, coming to Tova’s defense. “Besides, she is our high queen. The way she does it is the Oremgoth warrior way.”

Ghtraht Del Tei became the war chief of the Tei tribe. For the next two years he and his warriors butchered the dwarves wherever they went. His raids were legendary and his warriors, the most feared in all of Zanestor. The land of his tribe was deep in the south and they always suffered the brunt of dwarven incursions and revenge expeditions. He hated it all. He never wanted to be a warrior, but had no say in it. He never wanted to kill, but no one asked him. He was very good at it, but the older he got the more he dreamed of peace. He dreamed of a nation that prospers, procreates, lives a normal and peaceful life. Instead, they had death and more death. He hated blood magic of and he also h

His fire together with the powers of his mate, Summer, have successfully burned my warriors to ashes. Don't even get me started on the fighting prowess of that Azanian warlock, Aria's grandfather, Mtungagore. He is whizzing past my warriors as if they pose no threat to him. With a wave of his staff and a swarm of bees surrounding him, my warriors stand no chance. They are infact, trying all they can to not cross his path.

What… what was happening? Before I could ask, another warrior approached carrying a black cloak. Unlike mine… this one bore the silver crescent emblem of Silver Moon Pack stitched across the shoulder. The head warrior gestured, and the warriors immediately released me. My knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the ground. The head warrior tossed the cloak toward me. "Wear it." I stared at him in confusion. "You have one hour." His voice was cold. "Leave Silver Moon territory before then. If you're found here after that..."