Vanguard Decklists Novels & Stories

Midday brought a brief council in the war room. Garrett unrolled updated maps, red markers creeping closer like spilled blood. "Vanguard hit three points last night—tested our flanks, but retreated when the combat runes activated. Casualties minimal: two wounded, no losses." "But they're probing for weak spots," Marcus growled, his fist clenched on the table. "Seraphine's shamans are unraveling the outer layers. By dawn, they'll push harder." Cairn, the Moonstone Alpha, leaned forward, her grey-streaked hair tied back for battle.

"This is the legendary artifact, capable of forcibly stealing another's power. With your purest Luna blood, I will gain the strength to dominate the entire pack." A wave of fear surged through me. "You colluded with the Bloodfang Pack?" "Of course," he said with a triumphant grin. "Otherwise, how could I lure Kael and the entire main force away? Now, the Black Moon Pack's elite is all on the northern front. No one can save you." "Do you really think this will make you Alpha?" I sneered. "Even if you kill me, the Moon Goddess will never recognize you. I know you murdered Jacob."

"Does this fool know that I have no limit to finances?" He turned his head and stared at Damont who felt a cold hand squeeze his heart. He trembled slightly and couldn't stare him down so he lowered his eyes. Frost made a 70 million bid and Damont again raised it to 80 million. He was determined to gift Vinca the vase she had desired to get. His small mind was overworking. Vinca had lost her memory so she didn't remember him. Moreover, the kidnapping incident involving him and what followed after was completely wiped off her memory.

The room smells like woodsmoke and wet cedar and, underneath both, the mineral cold of stone that never fully warms no matter how many fires burn in the hearth built into its east wall. Cassian stands behind the desk his father built from a single fallen Douglas fir, both hands flat against its surface, a sheet of heavy parchment crumpled in his right fist. The paper crackles under his grip, ink smearing where sweat meets fiber, and he doesn't loosen his hand even after he's read the notice three times through. Vanguard Securities and Land Holdings. A human world entity nobody in this pack has ever heard spoken aloud, and somehow, overnight, the sole holder of every scrap of debt anchoring V

Just as I had suspected. "And that is not the only good news." Uncle Matthew continued. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Watson family is a legendary family. We have seen downfall, but we never lost our identity. Our family stood unshaken through every hardship, and we emerged stronger each time. And now, it is a matter of absolute pride that our family is going to form an alliance, in the form of marriage, with the most influential family in Purple City.... My niece, Oindrila Watson, will be married to Mr. Andreas King." It took me a few seconds to process his words. And when I finally realized what had been said, I felt as though my brain had stopped functioning.

Baraka stepped to the very edge of the obsidian-filled trench, looking down the long, shimmering stretch of the southern highway. On the horizon, a massive, choking cloud of brown dust rose into the sky, blotting out the base of the distant mountains. "They're here," Jabari whispered, stepping up beside Baraka, his obsidian fists clenching tight. From the dust cloud emerged the Vanguard. It was a terrifying display of repurposed military might. Malik had not marched his army; he had mobilized them. Dozens of stolen, heavy-duty military transport trucks roared up the highway, flanked by retrofitted armored personnel carriers. The vehicles were painted black, the insignia of the Tanzanian mili

Vanguard let the body drop without emotion. Lucia stepped back quickly, her breath catching. She pushed the curtains shut and swallowed hard. Enzo stirred, lifting his head slowly. Their eyes met. He understood instantly. Trouble. Something slammed against the wall outside. Heavy boots approached. The door burst open. Vanguard entered the room with the confidence of a predator who knew no one alive could chase him away. His dark hair fell over his forehead, his clothes were splattered with blood, and his presence filled the room like a storm.