War Machine Mark 5 Novels & Stories

Every soldier received new assignments. Nobody questioned anything. Because the orders came directly from Mark. And when Mark took control, people listened. Not because they were forced to. Because they were smart. Mia saw it happen throughout the morning. The mansion became a machine. Efficient. Precise. Relentless. No panic. No chaos. Just action. At noon, she entered the war room and found a giant map covering an entire wall. Colored pins. Photographs. Names. Connections. The city looked less like a city and more like a battlefield.

AJ… The fucker branded her. It was red and raw and looked like it was going to become infected but the AJ was so prominent… It was a scar she was to wear for the rest of her life. He made it so the world now understood that she was his… Sick fucker that he was… She would forever remember AJ now… Not that he was easy to forget. Lillianna did not see AJ again until later that night. The men had left and it was only the ladies. “So you are like a cow… They mark cows right?” Sally was being a complete bitch to her. Marla and Britney laughed. Lillianna for the life of her could not understand how anybody could be so cruel.

"Okay, get up, c'mon give me the bottle. You are just too drunk to reason." I said as I took the bottle from her and helped her to lie down on my bed, she belched loudly and dozed off, looking at her, I exhaled and covered her with a duvet. *********************************** We left the room for our Escort Mission practice. There were so many guns and explosives in provision. M590 shotguns, sound breaker, MGL-140, AI AS50, TESLA, 327 MAGNUM, With bullets and armours in full. The General made sure we lacked nothing even in our small number. But why weren't we this prepared in our first war? Those new guns, explosives, grenades, bullet proofs and all. They were not provided then.

Each clean shot represented a pack member fighting through pain and weakness to protect their own. The black market arsenal he'd acquired over the years—fifty Barrett M82/M107s, fifty CheyTac M200 Interventions, fifty Accuracy International AX50s, fifty McMillan TAC-50s, and fifty Sako TRG 42s—now proved their worth. Enough firepower to wage a small war, and they were using every bit of it.

Someone marked. Alina had him brought to the hall under heavy guard. He looked young. Maybe nineteen. The Collective’s symbols covered his exposed skin. “I come with a message from the Marked Collective,” he said. His voice was steady. Calm. “A proposal for peace.” “We’re not interested in peace with kidnappers,” Alina replied. “Then you’re interested in war? Because that’s the alternative. We have over five hundred marked now. All trained. All loyal. All willing to fight for what we believe in.”

She asked loudly, waiting for him specifically to answer. War sighed, hating how all of this was turning out. His wolf just wanted to grab their mate and go but unfortunately, it was just not that easy. Not to mention she was upset. "Pomelia is my mate...my name is War from Bane pack," he explained to her, knowing he should just get that out of the way immediately. Bane pack was infamous...not a place where anyone wanted to brag about, at least not in such a holy place.

I was neither here nor there, stuck between two worlds. “So then what was all this talk about the Messiah? About me being…The One?” “Our doctrine, our ancient law, tells us that one day a messenger, a Messiah, will arrive, and lead us to the lost sword. It tells us that on that day, war will begin, a final, all-out war between the vampire races, a war which will even drag in the human race—and the werewolves. It is our version of the Apocalypse. The only thing that can stop it, that can save us all, is this missing sword. And the only person that can lead us to that is the Messiah.

Most people had a few glasses of wine with the exception of Mark who was in training and Jasmine who everyone agreed should steer clear of alcohol for at least forty eight hours. Peter brought up his challenge to a game of Call of Duty, and then everyone got involved, dispersing quickly to their various suites and rooms to get on the Islands network. Mark picked up the X-box controller, finding it strange in his hands as he was used to a PS3 at home, but he could see the benefits on their choice of console on the Island. Peter had told him how they recorded the matches on a server, playing back particularly awesome kills or streaks in the bar afterwards, and Mark was hoping to have some of h

I lowered my eyes slightly and replied, "No need to trouble him with something so trivial." Jason still refused to give up. "You've been at his side for four years. You've handled almost everything for him. If you leave, he won't know how to manage without you." He kept trying to talk me out of it, but my mind was made up. "His life will be more comfortable without me anyway. I'm just an extra presence that doesn't belong. My pack is at war, and I have to go back. "Plus, I've reached the age for my marking ceremony, so I really don't have the energy to stay by the Alpha's side anymore. Since the Alpha already approved my request, I'll spend the next month briefing his new Beta on everything,

I had been able to see the labels above people's heads ever since I was little. When I was three, my grandpa held a family dinner at his house. Dad showed up with his secretary, Vivian Clarke. The moment she walked through the door, she went straight to Mom's seat. She rubbed her lower back and smiled sweetly. "Mrs. Lincoln, I hope you don't mind. Mr. Lincoln and I have been working on a project all day, and we're exhausted." I looked around the room. Above Eric's head was a glaring label. "Cheater." Above Mom's head was a dull gray label. "Loser." And above Vivian's head was a brightly shining label. "Ultimate gold digger." I immediately tugged on Eric's sleeve and asked loudly, "Dad, what