Warhammer Stories Novels & Stories

Nicole shouted my name. It was like her voice went through one ear and out the other. I was now able to relax again. “He’s better now.” Her voice faded. “Good, we need to get him up and ready to head out.” Grimm told her. My eyes opened and I turned to Grimm, slowly. “What’s going on?” I asked him. He smirked at me and the next words that he said to me had me up and about. “War.” He told me.

"I was hoping you'd ask later." Every alarm in her mind started ringing. Slowly, she stood. Hallowed Reaver remained in her hand. The people nearby noticed the tension and looked over. Rowan raised both hands. "Relax. If I wanted to hurt you, this conversation would be very different." "Answer the question." He looked at the mark again. Then at the spire. Then back at her. Finally he spoke. "My grandfather used to tell stories." Evelyn waited. "Stories about a city that would die twice."

And it was only for things to get even worse. "It means that because your sister couldn't keep her promise, I will be here to help you instead, Francesca." Helios said, keeping his eyes on her, "We can win this war. You only have to say the word." "The war..." Francesca trailed off. Right. Their people were at war with the Romans, wrestling control of the moon. Francesca had been so caught up with her recovered memories, that it escaped her for a second. Just then, a beloved face flashed in her mind, "Tristan---"

Aefstine wasn't paying much attention to the conversation though. There was a warrior, right in front of him. Aefstine had heard a lot of tales about the Warlord King of the Maud, the wars he'd fought, and the battles he’d won. He couldn't believe that the same man in those tales was standing right in front of him- well not technically in front of him, more like in front of his father, but still… He looked up in awe at the hero he used to hear about all the time. That was King Randal Dyl Nirmolak.

They are Vicious. They are Cruel. They are Lethal. Their names are not known, and their origins trace back to the first Lycan that walked the earth. They are three Alphas that rule the most feared kingdom separated from the human realm by a magical portal that opens once every five years. Ariadne had only heard of tales of the Beasts and believed those that cross the realms to be fools. Daring to cross such realms had never truly crossed her mind but as her eighteenth birthday begins to approach, she knows her future is already set in two paths; sold as a slave to another cruel master or work in the brothels as one of the many town whores.

That is how stories survive long after the last word is written. And if you're not ready to leave this world behind just yet, Good news🔥☺️. There's more where this came from. Continue the journey with my other books: My Lord Alpha — For those who love power, dominance, and a love that defies every rule of the Lore. MoonChild; The Rise of the Lycans — For those who crave a world where darkness runs wild and destiny cannot be outrun. Kiss Me Before the Sky Falls — For those who believe that the most intense love stories are the ones racing against time.

She laughed and thought to herself "my weakness is teachers". -Well, I already told you my whole life story. Of course, when she told her life story she didn't include Gabriel. -Well look my life is not that interesting it is very common I have a family that does not live here my family is European I came to visit this country and I stayed here my family is a very traditionalist family they come from time to time to see me and I also go there from time to time I have two more brothers they live with my parents and I am a professor at several universities, so as you see my life is not very interesting.

I look at the person who spoke. “Mom!” I yelled when I saw my parents and Shayne. “Congratulations, Bavina,” Mom and Dad says, I hug them. “Grandma!” Pauline yells. “Your hair is getting long, Bavina!” Shayne says that made me laugh. We’ve been through a lot, happiness, problems, pains, achievements, rejections, and we ended up to what God wrote for our story. We ended up with each other despite the pains we gave to each other.

And the war would not just be of territory anymore. It would be of stories. Of faith. Of power buried in blood. And in the girl who had never howled, but who might someday roar.

Riley said that blatantly. Hearing this clear and curious explanation, Brockley could only nod several times. On another occasion, Brockley, who had turned twelve years old, then asked for something. “Tell me about the old wars!” Like a history teacher, Riley opened one of the old books that recounted the wars of the BC era. He told about the brave commander who led the war troops. Brockley stood up with a fist clenched. “I will be a warlord too!” he cried in a very loud voice.