Warhammer 40k Female Primarch Fanfiction Novels & Stories

Blake Two asked, startled overhearing Blake Three’s comment. “Tell us what is going on in Hell. A lot of Power of Faith was being channeled into our Divine Universe.” Blake Prime said. Blake Three then relayed what had happened and what was still happening with him, how the Fallen were the women of the winged people, and Yawayer was a woman. It was after their sexy time that all of the powers began to be drawn into him, and the changes began, and now the three of them were here in this isolated stele.

These were lycans who had been hunted and persecuted and forced to live like animals in hiding because they would not bow to authority they did not respect. The leader was a female named Zara and she was scarred and battle-hardened. Her face bore marks of countless fights and one of her eyes was milky white from an old injury that had never healed properly. When I introduced myself as the Prima Zara laughed in my face and the sound echoed off the stone walls. " The Prima?" she repeated mockingly. "You look like a child playing dress up in her mother's clothes. What would a Prima know about survival?"

A new voice, deeper, colder than any we’d heard before, came up the stairwell. “Primary Alpha target detected. Termination protocol authorized.” Then it stepped into view. One single enhanced wolf. But this one was different. It was taller, looked heavier, and carried a lot of scars on its body like it had survived a hundred battles. But I was pretty sure that those scars were just design protocol. No way this thing had been fighting for that long. Its golden eyes burned almost white. It looked straight at me and smiled with too many teeth. “Hello, Kade. I am Unit Prime. And I was created to kill you.”

Both Arcadians looked at her — the girl they had once condemned to the pyre, now sitting as Princess Consort of Valros, turned vampire, eyes sharp and unafraid. Raven continued: “I was born in Arcadia Prime. My father was your High Priest. My mother was an Archdruid. I know the laws you uphold. But I have also seen what the Demonkin do. I have fought them. I have *died* fighting them.” She leaned forward slightly.

“You are not a werewolf.” Haha, haha. So, who am I? “I am Athena, the goddess of war,” she growls. “I am the Primordial wolf.” I snap her head to avoid wasting time on that cheap bitch. When I turn around, I notice that all of the Lycans are on their knees. What in the world is going on? Why are they all kneeling? I gaze at my partner. Did he order them to kneel? When I’m going to urge them to rise, a familiar voice cries.

Mara Vale is a literature teacher with a secret: she’s The Velvet Abyss, an adult content creator with millions of subscribers, specializing in alien-themed erotica. Her double life stems from a traumatic childhood — a mother who shamed her, a father who frightened her, a sister who reinforced her prudish exterior. When the Veyr invade Earth, Mara survives fourteen days trapped in her dungeon before escaping. Captured and assigned as a servant in the Spire of Avarra, she secretly catalogues the Veyr language and builds community with fellow humans. Assigned to clean Prince Xyren Vossk’s quarters, she discovers a copy of Paradise Lost — and a silent conversation through folded pages becomes

Zed Alaric, Paladin Prince, holy hum and clean metallic scent clashing with the room's darker magics. The women: Xylia, Water Fae Princess, fiercely competitive; Thalassa Aegir, Mermaid Princess, serene and pearlescent; Dahila, Witch Noble, ancient power in velvet; Terrica, Earth Elven Princess, severe and judgmental; Zephina, Shadowborn Noble, cloaked in depths; Amira, Nephilim Princess, vibrating with celestial energy; Lyra Astraea, Celestial Mage, gazing at invisible sky charts; Morwen, Siren Princess, ethereal; Elara, Phoenix Princess, radiating subtle warmth; Petra, Valkyrie Noble, armored and formidable; Wren, Light Mage, gentle contrast; Rhysandra Nychus, Vampire Noble, compensating f

“Directly. Her blood runs through your veins, Mira. You carry her fire, her fury, her will.” We continued walking. The tunnel wound deeper into the earth, twisting and turning like the intestines of some ancient beast. The murals grew darker, the images shifting from triumph to tragedy. I saw the fall of the Primordials—the battles, the betrayals, the burning of the ancient kingdom. One mural stopped me cold. It showed a woman, her face familiar, her body wrapped in chains. She was kneeling before a figure cloaked in shadow, her head bowed, her crown lying broken on the ground at her feet.

she said. She lay down. Kira between them and the shimmer between them and the compound quiet outside and the Gareth submission in the council registry and no deaths, no deaths, no deaths. Three months and some days. The first female Alpha Supreme, formally recognized, ten to one. Her daughter who had been born in a battle and had called fire at forty-one days and had now, apparently, claimed the shimmer as her own. Damoew's hand found hers in the dark. She held it.

There is no escaping my fate. I watch the Wyres carefully, studying their every move. If I’m going to live among them, I might as well start learning how to survive them. Their movements are graceful yet wild. As if they aren’t quite human but not entirely beast. Three of the six Wyres are female and each one is built like a warrior. Their well-defined arms flex each time they take a sip from their glasses. Their hair hangs down their backs, untamed and free. They seem just like us and yet…not.