Warhammer 40k Space Marines Book Novels & Stories

Sadly, Marcus thought differently. She sighed at the memory that should never have been. She was born an original. Originals fed on the blood of animals and birds and certain grain by-products and plant life. They were never intended to feed on humans. It was her foolish recklessness during her early centuries of life that got her caught up in a bet amongst a few of her wild hearted friends to see who dared taste human blood. It was the fact that it was forbidden that made the challenge all the more thrilling.

Looking at her aunt, she said, “She’s not coming with us now, right?” Olga looked stunned by Kendra’s question. “I don’t know. Is this enough to lose a soldier over?” “Soldier?” Kendra mused. “What else would you call what we are?” Olga replied. “We’re going to war with the aliens. Look around you. Count the bodies in this room and then remember the number of foe who await us on the surface. Do you really want to lose a body just because she agreed with the rantings of a paranoid female?”

I hugged myself, afraid of what might happen. War is the worst thing that can happen to a country. War is more lethal than a plague. For someone like me who had just experienced a war between immortals and demons, it was too difficult for me. Let's just say that I do have experience with things like this, but no one wants to experience a war. No country likes war. Stefano and I only turned to the door because it opened and we saw a sentinel covered in blood and holding a sword. "Lord Stefano, we are surrounded by demons. Armageddon is no longer safe, you need to evacuate to Ale's safe place—Miss Ales!" He shouted I don't know if it was an order or a suggestion.

Alpha Rasmore clapped his hands, an indication that his men should all be prepared. "I don't see the point of what we are fighting, Alpha Rasmore. Can you please take us into deeper details about this war?" Damien, the newly appointed spy, asked confusedly. Packs do fight because of misunderstandings and to show the world which pack is stronger than the other. They sometimes fought for entertainment purposes, where the best fighters from different packs would meet for a fight to entertain their members, but whatever they were about to fight for was something he couldn't understand at all.

Ryan asked. THE END OF BOOK II

And all I can do is stand there and cry. *** Chase. Hours later... Sunday, 14th February. 3am. Music pulses faintly through the ornate walls of Marv Bowman’s ridiculously opulent bedroom. Downstairs, the party is alive. Marv celebrating his latest corporate victory. A few hours ago, he secured a major contract to manufacture warships for the naval units of two countries. A handsome payment came through our bank. I remember watching his press conference earlier. His smug face. His polished smile.

Scotch burned trail gold, obsidian devouring every swallow, power humming balanced edge. Night deepened, bodies orbiting with no collision, but collision was inevitable. His hand ghosted spine trace absent—shiver traitorous. "Sleep," he ordered, soft menace, pulling me into the lounge plush without resistance. No fuck tonight—torture purer, proximity dominance submission unspoken. Dreams twisted Rourke's snap, Darius's grin fading peace, Kenji's obsidian guarding shadows. Blood ties bound us, visceral, dark romance, an empire forged in violence and want.

Lucas ~*~ All I see is red. Red from anger, red from panic and red of my Mari's blood, pooling under her body as she lay weak on the floor. I heard every gunshot behind the damn door, all eight of them now in Mari's body. Handing over my sister to the big man, who I learned is Thomas, I told him to call for the choppers. I then ran towards Mari. She was a paper coated in red, limp and pale. Her eyes heavy and tired, her focus in space.

The "Author’s Study" was a sanctuary of woodsmoke and old leather, a space that existed in the "Negative Space" between the stories. The shelves that stretched into the infinite were packed with "Bound Histories"—thousands of volumes titled THE BLACKWOOD PACK: SECTOR 4. Silas and Lyra stood on a rug of woven starlight, their forms slowly regaining their "Biological Density" in the presence of the Source.

Travis; his Religious Studies lecturer, that had sent the letter to him but one thing was certain; He was going to face the devil in two weeks. I JUST WANT TO MAKE IT CLEAR HERE THAT THE ‘MACROCOSMIC ORDER’ IS A WORK OF FICTION; JUST LIKE OTHER PARTS OF THIS BOOK. IF OUT OF CURIOSITY YOU GO TO GOOGLE TO SEARCH FOR IT, YOU'LL DEFINITELY FIND SOMETHING DIFFERENT. With Love, Stephen. ❤️