War Machine Mark 5 Novels & Stories

My fated mate wants my body and soul… but he still calls me by his missing wife’s name. ____ Framed by her best friend. Rejected by her groom. Cast out by her pack, Savannah’s world shatters. Until Xavier, the Alpha of Alphas, finds her. From the moment their bond ignites, it’s raw and addictive. He touches and kisses her like he can’t breathe without her. But he believes she’s someone else—his missing wife. His daughter calls her “Mommy.” And the mate bond burns hotter than she ever imagined. Savannah has secrets. A past she’ll never speak of. She swore no man would ever own her again. So why does her soul beg to be his?

“Let me help you.“ She wrapped a arm around my waist, while I threw mine across her shoulders. Gently, she helped me out of the bed, and we made our way towards the bathroom which was outside the tent. Every step was a struggle. Every painful gasp that slipped past my lips was a reminder of everything I had gone through. After what seems like eternity, we reached the bathroom. “Thank you, Elara,” I say. “Anytime,” she replied and made her way outside. I undressed and stepped into the warm herbal bath. I sat into the bathtub and only then did I feel relieved a little. My eyes landed on the bruises on my body. I remembered how hard I had begged those soldiers, while screaming 'my baby' but no

Hart was in the middle of his third controlled shift practice of the day when Jethro burst into the training grounds with his phone in hand and his expression grim enough to make Hart’s stomach drop. “We have a problem,” Jethro said, not even waiting for Hart to shift back to human. “Marcus Veil just hit five pack territories simultaneously with a new weapon. Casualties are already in the dozens.” Cole, who’d been supervising Hart’s training in wolf form, shifted back to human immediately and grabbed the phone Jethro offered.

“Something stronger than beer. One fucking Bratva brother was already a pain in the ass—now there’s two?” I stared at Viktor. At his hands. His mouth. The curve of his neck, exposed just enough to see the glint of a tattoo under the collar. It wasn’t Zenya’s tattoo. It was something else. A wolf? A dagger? I didn’t know. But my gaze lingered. And when I looked back up, Viktor was watching me watch him. He smiled. Fucking smiled. My stomach flipped. He tilted his head toward my pants and murmured, “Might want to do something about that little tent, malishka .”

"That was only because I was willing to uplift you. Without my blessing, you are less than stray dogs." "Worthy of me? You?" I stopped in front of them, using the tip of my boot to lift Alexander's chin, staring into his trembling pupils. "Look around you." They strained to move their eyes. To their shock, they realized that the massive plaza was filled with thousands of powerful wolf warriors. And among them, half were members of the Silver Moon Pack! "Beta Mark?" Alexander gasped, seeing his former subordinate standing in the front row, wearing armor made of enchanted ice.

Most of the soldiers had been inflicted with wounds and injuries. The women of the pack were just standing in the corner and basically doing nothing. “What is going on? why is everyone back in the mansion?” I inquired cluelessly and the person stepping forward to give me the information was Markus. “They are attacking every five minutes. The war goes on for 5 minutes and then they sort of disappear. They are standing there but not really there. They don’t move or get hurt,” he explained but what I didn’t get was why were our soldiers taking a break?

The 666IB's battle uniforms were a camouflage mixture of black, green, white and grey, although in combat, it was just all black topped with grey reactive armor plates that generates a certain wave that would make them imperceptible in the eyes of monsters at dark. They all stared at him, to Lukas, as if he was some legend. Lukas felt uncomfortable and simply ignored it. "It's good to have honorable paranormal combat units in our humble installation." Veras said as he moved to the front. "But I will not bore you with an introductory speech." He cleared his voice. "We are at war with the supernatural, as always, and this time, one of their generals made themselves known in the form of a Type-

"The last slot belongs to the fierce fighter in the pack. So the ancient includes the past alpha, beta and gemma, then the healer and the fierce fighter. This five from each pack represent the strong towers of Werewolves." "As I said earlier at the restaurant, I said one of the rule of werewolf is hierarchy. We all are placed according to our importance, we have the Alpha and luna of the pack, the Beta, the Gemma, the healers, the warriors, the helpers and the last on the hierarchy is the omega." He stops to know if I was following him. Of course I am, infact I'm hanging on his every word.

“You’re a devil, Cali—I’m in. Where?” He pointed to a stone archway, shadowed by vines. “There, perfect angle. Wait for my nod.” She nodded back, crew vanishing into the dark, and Jeremy stood alone, hands in pockets, the estate’s cliffs looming silent behind him. The army rolled in minutes later, a steel tide crashing the gates—five armored trucks, matte green beasts with reinforced hulls, each a 10-ton M113A3, turrets swiveling, engines snarling like caged wolves.