War Dog A Soldier's Best Friend 소설 & 이야기

The wolf is moving between my legs and rubbing its fur against me trying to soothe me. Trip helps John to his feet. The two men leave me alone amongst the ruins of my cell. I want my baby, and these assholes will give me my baby, or I will kill them all. The dark energy inside me seems to release as I calm myself. The wolf calms me. When I look I do not see it. I know I felt it at my feet.

Rhychard canceled too many appointments to make him a reliable business. The Warrior popped the lid off his coffee to let it cool a bit as he watched a young yuppie walking his little Pomeranian. Not a man's dog by any sense of the word, but then again, he lived with a canine the size of a horse. Of course, Kree would sniff his nose at being compared to a dog. I am a coshey. Can dogs talk? No. They merely do pathetic tricks to please their owners and wag their tails. Most just lie around eating and defecating on the carpet. Then he would ask if they were going to get pizza that night for dinner. Rhychard didn't care what Kree said; he was an overgrown watchdog sent to babysit the human Warri

"Yes, I am. But as you've said, these new generation of White Wolf's soldiers are currently the best Wolf's. The best thing to know the enemy's weakness is to befriend with them." "Is this really is it? You're just interested in this red lips gay gay White Wolf soldier right? He swings in your way and just happen to be your perfect combination. Alexander, I just wanted to remind you, Alexandra seduced two gorgeous White Wolf's soldiers before and was successful of it. But it ended in a tragedy. We don't want you to be like Alexandra, Alexander. We don't want to repeat another tragedy."

He felt her arms close around him and he melted into her embrace. During the fight his wolf had been feral, wild, fighting by instinct. Now he could let his gentler nature take over. He was with his mate. She was safe. Being here with her was what he needed to calm the thoughts in his mind. Carr would be OK. It was his wolf who was putting all the worst thoughts in his mind. Wolves weren't subtle. Everything was black and white with them. If you were injured badly, you died. But they had a great Doctor. Carr would be OK. He was sure of it.

This cowboy wolf was none other than Jeremy Lennon, high commander of the Grey Wolf armies, infamous Grey Wolf warrior, and one of the fiercest wolves ever to live. Anytime one of the Wild Eight had returned to their compound near death’s door and clinging to a thread of life, this man had almost always been the one singularly responsible—and that didn’t begin to cover the damage he’d done to the Wild Eight through the information-gathering and patrolling schedules demanded of his men. If she’d thought his battle scars made him intimidating, the pair of eyes locking onto the bush she hid in, as if he saw straight through the shrubbery, chilled her more than the snow beneath her paws. Irises

It wasn’t until I got stuck between two packs fighting that I stopped. I had no fucking clue if I should pick a side, but when I was attacked by a wolf, I killed him. Another wolf jumped on top of me, and more were coming. I had never fought like this, and I fucking tired, but Delta was amazing and killed the wolves without sustaining any serious damage. More were coming close, and one bit into my already sore leg. The fucker must have realized that was my weak spot. Luckily, the remaining soldiers helped me kill him, and together we killed the rest of the enemy wolves.

The tension that had clung to her all day seemed to melt away in this moment of pure, unfiltered connection. Ranger let out a soft, rumbling purr, leaning into her touch. His big, expressive eyes looked up at her, conveying more than words ever could, an apology, a reassurance, a plea for forgiveness. He pressed his broad head into her lap, the weight grounding her amidst the chaos of her mind. Soldier, ever the guardian, nudged her with his massive snout, licking her cheek again, this time with a gentle, possessive affection that spoke of loyalty beyond measure. His dark eyes watched her intently, silently promising he’d do anything to keep her safe.

She wasn’t just their leader; she was their friend, their ally, their protector. Ronan, his usual stoic demeanor softened by a gentle smile, stood beside her, a silent guardian. He moved with a quiet confidence, his aura radiating strength and compassion. He exchanged hearty greetings with each pack leader, acknowledging their courage and resilience. He had learned much from the wolves, not just about survival and leadership, but about the power of unity and the enduring strength of loyalty. Their shared triumph had deepened their connection, strengthening the already unbreakable bond between them.

Declan’s POV: Cold wind blew gently across the vast lands bordering the Westwood pack. It was a fresh morning, but the atmosphere was particularly cold. About a hundred soldiers assembled in an orderly formation, all dressed in brownish armor with a tiger emblem attached to the chest. I stood in front of them, inhaling cold air as I used my wolf’s inner strength to sniff around. Something was wrong. Someone was missing. I took a quick glance at Rhys who was standing right beside me, and he nodded to confirm my guess.

Not everyone joined the army with a patriotic heart. The temperature shifted around her as a pure white, dire wolf walked up the hill. Its coat glittered against the sun’s touch. “Everything good, Astara?” Atarah looked down at her second in command. The wolf was only an inch shorter than the horse, and the only one of its kind to exist in the kingdom. Astara nodded and then lifted her head to sniff at the air.