Warhammer 40k Ancients Novels & Stories

He said it’s important we meet with them, and then within seconds, he was gone,’ she said. I try to take the envelope, but my father steps back and opens it. ‘Alpha Maximus, we understand humans and werewolves have been killed frequently over the past year. I know you have had men trying to track us down so you can kill us as punishment for these deaths. For one, you will never be able to find our lair unless we bring you there ourselves. Two, it’s important you know that we vampires are not responsible for these deaths. Demonic wolves called ‘Blood Dwellers’ that are part vampire, part demon and part wolf are controlled by a Demon Lord called Atticus. It is he who is behind these deaths. We

Rhine was unmoved. She let out a soft laughter. She put her hand on Martell's cheek. She chanted quietly. Martell held his head in pain as a bug moved into his head. He turned around and walked to the popped shells. "It's time to wake up and fight our long awaited war" he bellowed and the giant soldiers started standing up from the shells "What's he doing?" David asked anxiously. "I think he is waking them up" Alpha Jones made a stance. "He is possessed" Sophie shook her head vigorously in fear.

"What do you mean?" "Just what I said. I heard Dagon myself, all of his brothers are after her, and once he discovers her, so will their father." A silence settled over the group. It was broken by Holly. "I really hate being talked about like I don't exist. Can you please explain what's going on? The Four Horsemen herald the end of the world, don't they? Why would they want anything to do with me?" "Your soul," Lachesis answered. "Holly, you're you, but your soul has lived many lifetimes now. It makes you a target to those that devour souls."

He immediately went quiet, pressing his face into my neck. Sophie watched us with soft eyes, but I saw the exhaustion there. Being parents while fighting ancient forces was draining us both, yet it also made us sharper. More determined. That afternoon we called a war council in the garden, our unofficial war room. Elders, Marcus, and the new alphas sat in a circle while Lucas played on a blanket between Sophie and me, trying determinedly to crawl toward a fallen leaf. “The Echoes and shadows are servants,” one elder said gravely. “The true ancient beings, the ones who created the first prophecies, are waking fully. They want The Spark to stabilize their crumbling realms, or to become a vesse

I breathed, the dagger trembling in my grip again, its edge now glowing silver-hot in my hands. He didn’t answer. Not right away. Because the answer was walking toward us. Towering, faceless figures with too many limbs, bones that clicked out of place and reformed every few seconds. Their skin writhed as if something underneath was trying to break free. They didn’t walk they crawled forward in jerks, like broken marionettes re-learning how to move. “The Ancient Ones,” Tharros said quietly behind me. “Gods before gods. Creators of death and hunger. They ruled before the Moon ever rose.”

He looked up from his hand and took in the scene of the Grove. "What is this place?" he asked, fixating on the altar. I debated for a moment, trying to think of how much I should tell him. I thought of Avery. It was her family's relic. What would she say? "Each family has an object or a place that's sacred. It's something that connects us with our power, our ancestors. All the Necromancers that came before us. This is the Manser's Grove." John lowered his hand still in awe. "I can feel the power here." He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "It's ancient, pure." He frowned, and looked up at me. "I've felt this before, around our own sacred items."

The Ancients’ energy pulsed faintly in rhythm with Ethan’s heartbeat, as if acknowledging the beginning of a new era. And somewhere in the distance, a dark force stirred—ancient, patient, and ready to reclaim the world. But Ethan Everlight, Alpha King, hybrid of human and Ancients, was ready. The battle for the fate of the world had only just begun.

“I’m 300 in human years; before that, Xamnir was my master and Alpha.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen my older brother at a loss for words, and to be fair, I am just as fucking stunned. This witch isn’t just old, she’s one of the Ancients: A breed of witches so powerful that the Gods themselves had to eradicate them. But how did Marle survive the Purging? “I know what you’re thinking, but now is not the time for that-”

​Then came the silence. ​The shrieks stopped. The frantic scratching and howling of the horde ceased entirely, replaced by an unnatural, suffocating quiet that made the hairs on my arms stand up. ​"They're organizing," Marcus whispered, gripping his sword. "Ferals don't organize." ​"These are not Ferals," Kaelen said grimly, stepping up beside me. He didn't try to touch me, maintaining the physical boundary I had demanded, but his massive presence was a steadying anchor in the terror. "These are the Ancients. Malakor's ancestors. The ones who slept beneath the ice."

And then, they appear together. Three figures step forward, their presence overwhelming. They are unlike anything I have ever encountered, their very existence vibrating with ancient power. Their eyes gleam like starlight, their forms wrapped in a strange energy that doesn’t belong to this world. The Three Ancients. And when they speak, their voices are absolute. “You belong to us, Jasmine.” ~~~~~ Ramon’s POV The moment the three ancients step forward, the entire arena falls into an eerie silence. The Supreme Council, once so authoritative, now looks uncertain. Even the most seasoned warriors and elders shift uncomfortably, their instincts recognizing the sheer power radiating from these bei