War Dog A Soldier's Best Friend Novels & Stories

But all I could think about was my childhood companion—Rex, a Siberian war dog who had been our most loyal friend when my brother and I were children. Two years ago, war broke out with the rogue wolves. My brother answered the Alpha Council's call and joined the army. Rex couldn't bear to be separated from him, so he secretly stowed away in the supply wagons and followed my brother to that brutal battlefield. I was heartbroken to see them leave, but the pack's interests always came first. I could only weep as I said goodbye, worrying about my brother but even more about our beloved Rex. Rex wasn't just a dog to me—he was my best friend, my childhood companion.

They taught him the delicate balance between strength and compassion, the art of leading with a firm hand yet an open heart. Amidst his rigorous training, Adrian found solace in his bond with his wolf. His connection with his inner beast was primal and profound, a constant reminder of his heritage and the untamed power that coursed through his veins. The instinctual nature of the wolf fueled his desire to protect and provide for his pack, forging an unbreakable bond that transcended words.

If you lived here, you wanted the world to know you were afraid of something. I lifted the binoculars and swept the boundary. Four-man patrol on the quarter hour, all in matching tan Carhartts, black softshell vests, no logos. Two on foot, two with dogs. One of the dogs was a purebred Malinois, the kind the DOD started breeding after the last batch of German Shepherds aged out. The other was…something else. Not a wolf, not exactly, but the kind of animal you’d get if a werewolf spent ten years as a Navy SEAL and then decided to become a dog for tax reasons.

He didn’t even have time to scream before he hit the ground. The rest turned, shouting, firing their shiny little weapons. Silver rounds whizzed. Two grazed my shoulder—burning—but it barely slowed me. My wolf was too wired, too strong, too alive. Too powerful from that blue redbull thingy. One soldier tried to jab me with a silver blade. Cute. I bit his arm off. Then came the Black Fang. Massive wolves. Okay, I have to play this right, they were warriors, massive and expert.

Wolves everywhere—hundreds of them—pouring in from every direction. The northern packs had arrived, their howls cutting through the night. From the east, I heard the war cries of the coastal clans. South and west, more allies flooded in, a sea of fur and fangs and desperation. “For our families!”.someone screamed. The dark soldiers met them head-on. The collision was brutal. I saw a young wolf—couldn’t have been more than sixteen—latch onto a soldier’s leg, ripping through the dark armor. The soldier raised its blade. Before it could swing, three more wolves tackled it from the side, tearing it apart.

I was relieved to see my friends and acquaintances safe. "I guess a wild grass like you is really hard to kill, huh? "Bastard, I'm glad you didn't break your already ugly face." Wolfric and I wrapped each other in a brotherly hug. We were so busy fighting for our own packs to worry and check on each other so to see that he's alive is such a huge relief. Wolfric contributed a lot in this war because he donated his family's weapons and tanks. Not to mention that he has the strongest werewolves.

Eva asked him shining her newly colored blue eyes at him. Luca smiled and said "You see, a Wolf will not protect what he has until he's challenged by another Wolf who wants to take it" "Huh?" Eva said and Luca stood up and patted her head and said "Soon you'll understand Eva" ~~~~

He gritted his teeth knowing that the pack lands were important and with their dire wolf size they needed as much clear land as they could get to exercise and hunt. "I will go out with the troops to remark the border with urine, the smell should deter the invaders," he growled menacingly. Dominik nodded and left in a rush. Mystrel stood, standing at six foot five, he was an intimidating individual. He cracked his back and headed to the dire house. It was a huge dwelling that housed the entire pack minus him and Dominik. They each had their own separate residence. Mystrel could smell the evening meal. The scent of roasted venison filled his nostrils and his stomach growled hungrily.

It kept looking at me with blue green eyes that were a contrast of mine. I noticed it had silver like white fur which was very rare. It had a lightning streak at the side of its body. Walking around and around me like a predator hunting and stalking its prey. I took on a defensive stance,ready for when it pounced. But the wolf looked at me for a few more seconds and opened its mouth to speak. The voice I heard speaking shocked me so much that I didn't hear what she said the first time. “It's time to wake up, Your Highness,” the wolf said to me.

Life without the White Wolf's blessing was like a nightmare they couldn't wake up from. Within a week, the lush forests of the Silver Moon territory began to wither. The streams turned muddy and dried up. A mysterious plague began to spread among the pups and the elderly, a cough that no medicine could cure—because the only cure was the aura of a White Wolf. Married life wasn't the sweet dream Alexander and Lucas had imagined. Instead, it was a total disaster. Before, they were the Gods of War in the pack. Every hunt yielded the fattest, most prize-worthy game. They arrogantly believed this was due to their own superior talent and strength.