Transformers Exiles Novels & Stories

My brothers looked at each other before looking at me, I gave them a shrug before looking out the window. My eyes glided up and down the building that stood in front of me, nothing changes about it. It still had that sick yellow paint and the white on the pillars were beginning to wash off, the painting of a phoenix on the the left side of the building was beginning to fade away a reminder that the one who painted it no longer existed.

At the mention of the wolf fang, Jim recalled the day I'd slapped Kelly over it. Only now did he realize it was the last keepsake from my father. But what had he done? Jim staggered, and his voice trembled. "W-What about his body?" "Rogue corpses get dumped in the wasteland." Without a word, Jim drove deep into the wasteland. He sped recklessly while muttering to himself. "No way. There's just no way. With so many rogues here, they must've mixed it up." The wasteland's depths hid a mountain of corpses. Most rogues ended up here after dying. Some were reduced to bones after decaying, while others were gobbled up by griffins circling overhead.

That scar is from the war, it must be. He walks toward us with no hint of fear. As soon as he crosses the White Skull Rocks, the crowd of humans gasps loudly. I hear Daniel and the others growling lowly, but I grunt once, causing them all to quiet down. The General suddenly begins to laugh loudly. “You werewolves claim to be faithful to your word, but here you are. It’s been what? Just a few years since we made the truce?” The General speaks. He sounds as bold as he look.

Evryn’s breath caught. Ivy walked to one plate, brushing the dust off. “I thought they terminated the others,” she whispered. “They told me… she was the only one.” Jaxon examined the terminal, eyes wide. “No. They weren’t terminated. They were transferred.” “Where?” Evryn asked. The screen flickered to life. A single word displayed: EXODUS. Evryn’s heart raced. “She’s building an army.” “No,” Ivy said. “She already has one.”

"They'll fight cornered—claws and cunning." Clara loped beside me, gray eyes scanning the treeline. "James's remnants—desperate, but dangerous. We take them alive if possible; question their whispers." The gorges loomed ahead, deep and shadowed chasms where the river carved through stone like ancient fangs, walls slick with mist and echoing with the water's thunderous rush. Lira's scouts met us at the rim, their fur damp from swift swims, eyes gleaming with battle-readiness. "They're cornered below, near the hidden falls," a River beta reported, voice clipped. "Exiles—rabid with old grudges, armed with silver-tipped claws from James's vaults. We've felled one; four remain, snarling of 'venge

I say, recalling all I can about the matter “The Royal Guard is usually made up of werewolves. They have much lighter scents so they’re easy to go unnoticed, and they’re more disposable than a lycan if it comes to sacrificing their lives. The expedition team is actually the group that would’ve been Lukas’ royal guard, had he not gone off to war and dragged them along as recruits. Currently, you may consider them soldiers.” Silence echoes between us. I study Dinah’s profile, and there’s an odd tightness in my chest at the dejected drop of her shoulders, the tension in her frame. I want to reach out and hold her to me. “What about the girls?” Dinah finally asks

"The scars of the past are what forge a true ruler." My mother, the Luna Queen, came over and gently stroked my hair. "My little princess. Welcome home." Home. The word warmed my heart. "By the way," Damien walked in, holding a letter. "There's news about someone you might want to hear." "What news?" "Riven and Jenna," he sneered. "They've been exiled in the Forbidden Lands of Eternal Winter for three months now." "And?" "Riven was stripped of his Alpha power. They say he can't even shift anymore," Damien continued, a cruel twist to his lips. "As for Jenna... she lost the pup. The blood magic she helped weave claimed its price."

"Look out the window." Madison turned. Beyond the reinforced glass of the training center, the horizon was no longer empty. A fleet of black SUVs, thirty of them, cut through the Cain pack borders. They didn't slow down for the gates. They smashed through the iron as if it were toothpicks. The vehicles bore no logos, no pack crests. Just a matte black finish that sucked the light out of the morning. "The exile is over," Ethan said, stepping up behind her. His weight was a solid, grounding presence. "The war for the throne just arrived at your front door."

“A doorway to a world devoid of power. Devoid of allies. Devoid of return.” My stomach twisted so hard I nearly folded in half. “No,” I whispered. “No, you cannot.” He blinked at me like I had suggested something inconvenient, such as rescheduling my execution. “You are to be exiled beyond the reach of magic. Beyond the reach of this kingdom. Beyond the reach of all who might protect or follow you.” “No return?” I gasped. “No way back? No path home?” “You will walk among mortals,” he said. “You will forget this life. This place. This realm.”