Warcraft Novels Novels & Stories

Once the battle is met and the slaughter ends, Tancorix will be used as a vessel for the king and the desires of Drust. *** Porcius shook his head, free of the vision, his heart ready to explode at the fate of Tancorix, divined by her own priests. Weaver, the wizardess from the north, who seemed in conflict with Drust . . . but was she at all? Had they created this grand ruse on them? They needed the beasts and a confederation of Picts . . . to destroy the Romans? Blood. Drust needed blood. And a lot of it. Why?

If you’re below eighteen, you should not read these books as they feature a lot of violence, gore and sex. If you’re a fan of fantasy series with werewolves, demons, vampires, witches, gods and whatnot, you can read THE WICKED GAMES, which is the first in the series called The Spirileaxus Saga. Unfortunately, none of the books in this series is standalone, so you have to read them in chronological order. You can also go for CURSED BLESSINGS. Again, this is book one in the series The Blessed Ones.

He kept his hand close to the Veilblade, though he dared not draw it unless necessary. The journey was quiet at first, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Even Myrra, who usually filled the silence with sharp observations, remained unreadable. It was Rael who finally broke the stillness. “So,” he said, keeping his voice low. “What exactly do we know about Dawnfire? Other than the whole ‘history was rewritten in blood’ thing.” Myrra glanced at him. “That is what we know. The war that ended there was so catastrophic that even records of it were erased.”

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22 The Girl Who Fell for the Valkyrie, Part II Lauren This is what I remembered from after the war: The Fae warriors I had been raised around, they were the ones had gone war with the Vikings, who crashed uninvited in our land and went forward with their crusade. The battle between our forces, and theirs lasted for several days, almost seemingly without an end in sight. Each night, I heard their screams, and it haunted me, since I knew that at any moment that those screams could have been my father.

she asked. “He’s from Wadim’s den,” I replied with disgust. “Damn, I thought they were all dead.” “Apparently not,” Garth interjected as he walked up on the other side of me. “Who is Wadim?” “Was,” I emphasized. “He was a twisted son-of-a-bitch who dealt in human trafficking and cannibalism. Rumor had it he was the bastard son of Dracula.” Garth nodded. “I see,” he said. He looked at Magdalena and said, “So the rumors are true?”

“Good. It’s time we reignite the war between wolves and humans. And this time, we aren’t stopping with a cup half-full.” And it all starts with Tobias fucking Irons, Beau thought. Soon, he’ll pay for what he did.

I also prayed earnestly that he didn’t forget me here. I spotted a bookshelf at the far end of the room and decided to look through it in hopes of finding something to read. The majority of the books were about werewolves and the pack’s history. There were also books about politics, war, and governance. I would have loved to pick up the book that contained information on all members of the Crescent Moon Pack, but I decided against it. It would seem like snooping. I finally settled on a book titled ‘The Art of War.’ Not that I was a fan of violence but I was curious to know why the author had referred to war as an art. It was such a controversial claim.

Marinah lifts the top book, shuffles pages, and begins reading. War is the world of Shadow Warriors. For Shadow Women this is unacceptable. We are mothers, nurturers, providers. That which is war will never touch our door again. I, as Nova Warrior, have suppressed that which weakened me. My Nova will stand guard as we walk a path of harmony. She is at peace with my decision. "Who wrote it?" I ask when she gently closes the book and looks up at me. "My grandmother." It makes sense the woman was Nova. They didn't all stay on the home planet as our texts suggest. We also have no information on female Novas. Maybe the women kept secrets.

Byron I strode through the dark corridors of the dungeons, passing by several cells, most of which held Hollowborns we captured. Hollowborns were the second plague of our time. Capturing supernaturals and stealing their magic. I always enjoy torturing them. But today, I'd come for a different reason. I stopped before the cell that held the werewolf. The gates had been laced with wolfsbane, making it impossible for her to try to escape. It didn't seem like she was planning on it, judging by how she curled against the wall, hugging her knees tightly. She didn't seem to notice my presence, or maybe she just didn't care enough.