War Dog A Soldier's Best Friend Novels & Stories

But as a man, I wanted more than anything for my friends and family to come out of this alive. The first line of wolves was in front of me, and I tore them as quickly as I could, not giving them a chance to get a scratch or a bite in. They messed with the wrong pack! Argo, Mila, and the soldiers formed a triangle of wolves, each one covering the other. One of his soldiers got attacked by two wolves at once, and immediately his fellow soldiers rushed to his help. Mila had watched hours of combat videos, played combat games, and done whatever else to research the best ways to fight the enemies. There were a few soldiers out there who had higher ground from that position, ready with some of Kat

Each wolf bore scars not only on their bodies but in their hearts—a reminder that every victory in battle came at a steep cost. Donavon stood amidst the chaos, his eyes scanning the carnage with a mixture of fierce pride and deep sorrow. The enemy had been driven back from the western ridge, but the cost was visible in the fallen and the wounded. His gaze swept over the battered ground, each mark and bruise a testament to the sacrifice of his pack. Yet, among all the losses, one wound cut deeper than any physical injury: Hart, his loyal friend and trusted second-in-command, lay motionless beneath a shattered oak, blood pooling beneath him.

Each wolf, with its sleek In the heart of the sanctuary, where the winds whispered secrets and the trees whispered tales, a formidable force emerged. Led by none other than the legendary alpha wolf, Arvandus, the wolf military stood tall and proud, their presence an indomitable shield against any threat that dared to encroach upon their sacred land. Arvandus, with his piercing amber eyes that held the wisdom of countless moons, commanded his loyal pack with an unwavering authority.

“And am I a lamb to fear wolves? A wolf is a friend to a soldier, for often has he profit from his hand. We have also firearms in the sleigh. Goodnight, dearest, goodnight.” “With God.”

His mate trots her way into the cave and begins to lick the blood droplets that threaten to fall to the ground. “Good girl , Mika” I praise her. I run my fingers through both their furs , enjoying the feel of it. Like loyal dogs , these two sit in front of me , silently comforting me as they sense my saddened heart. These two wolves – when I had found them they were almost frozen to death by a sudden storm that had been so intense and unexplainable. They did not trust me at first , but as time past by they have become my trusted guard dogs and also the only form of a relationship I have.

We had shown the enemies the true meaning of strength—not individual dominance, but the unwavering unity of the Wolfsong and Midnight Mirage packs. As the adrenaline faded, I scanned the battlefield, checking on the wounded. A young warrior whimpered under a fallen log, his leg twisted at an awkward angle. I gently nudge him with my snout, reassuring him that help is coming. He whimpered again, but this time, it's laced with relief.

Her wolf form is a blur of cinnamon coloured and white fur, her eyes glowing with determination as she fends off the soldiers with calculated precision. Each soldier who approaches her is met with a powerful swipe of her claws or a swift, agile dodge that leaves them stumbling. Zeva's spirit shines through her, a formidable force working in perfect harmony with Cynamon's instincts. For a moment, I dare to hope that we might actually overcome this threat.

Felix of Ironfang appeared from the right stairwell with six of his own wolves and drove into the scaling soldiers with the kind of organized ferocity that came from years of pack combat training. Felix took the first Ashmoor soldier head on. The collision was brutal. The Ashmoor wolf was bigger but Felix was faster. He went under the larger wolf's swing and drove upward and the Ashmoor soldier was dead before Felix stepped back from him. The second Ashmoor soldier shifted fully and bit into Felix's shoulder. Felix did not stop moving. He grabbed the shifted wolf's jaw with both hands and wrenched and the wolf dropped and did not get up.

Wolves parted to let them through, their morale visibly surging at the sight of their alpha. At the bridge, the situation was brutal. Lion forces had brought in heavy machine guns and were cutting through the barricades. Several wolves were pinned behind wrecked cars, bleeding and exhausted. Damian didn’t slow down. He ripped a grenade from his belt, yanked the pin with his teeth, and hurled it at the advancing line. The explosion sent a dozen Lions flying. “Push forward!” he roared. Adriana covered his flank, her shots sharp and precise. She moved like a phantom, ducking, rolling, firing. Her presence beside him wasn’t just support—it was partnership. The soldiers could see it, feel it.

That got his attention. "Yeah Hugh ranked warrior and her wolf is a mean killing machine, you want a wolf on your side" "Okay, but if she is on the other side of the pack how is that helpful to you?" He was a bit confused. The warrior laughed. Her wolf is really fast, take her maybe thirty minutes to get here, and like I said only if we are in real trouble, actually she is proved to come here. Those half dozen are still prowling and were expecting them to team up and try and break the border, likely end of shift, mangy critters but not dumb".