Warlord Titan Artwork Novels & Stories

A subtle knock was on my door and when the door opened, Dante appeared with his new beta, of which he was told to wait outside. "Good morning your majesty," he greeted me as I nodded. "So Dante, you said you wanted to see me," I asked, going straight to the point. "Yes sir, there was another attack and they left a letter,"'he replied, handing me a rough sheet with blood stained. "They want to break their allegiance sir, which means another war will break out," Dante informed. I can't have another war, I haven't even settled the Kai issue, it makes trusting Kai with my kingdom really hard.

Finding a free table in the crowded place he sat down with Howard and Goradin for a beer. "You can say what you want of these guys, but they do know how to brew a beer" Howard remarked. "Well, I haven't tasted one in months so I wouldn't know Mark. They could serve me lemonade and sell it for beer and I would never know." Price replied with a grin. The three of them just sat back and enjoyed their well-earned refreshments. While halfway through his drink Price let his eyes go across the many pictured decorations pinned to the wall. He let his eyes rest on a black and white depiction of a soldier looking at the horizon. Over the horizon emerging towering humanoid robots carrying massive canno

She chuckled, turning her head at me. “Promise me you won’t sell this, Red,” she laughed. I shook my head, my shoulders shaking as I laughed with her. “I will keep this. You didn’t tell me you have this kind of talent, but you got my lips wrong.” I raised my hand, my index finger pointing at the curve of the lips of her stick man drawing. Aya glanced at me and then nodded. “Paint again, Red,” she murmured. “I can’t. Since Scarlett died, I felt like I could not paint anymore,” I muttered sadly, glancing at the last piece I made, Scarlett and our twins.

Tyler said, his voice was so harsh. What was he saying and to whom. That’s when it hit me the most distorious pungent smell, I got up to look at him. The Black Devil himself. He looked horrific half human half wolf, blood red eyes boring in me and his laugh that froze my blood. I was petrified. "Good work Tyler, now Warrior Kent, the most dangerous of all will dance for us." He spoke in his high pitch voice sending tremors in my body. I turned towards Tyler

"It could be—if the Alpha abused it. But here? Everyone has a role, we pay omegas fairly, no one bullies anyone. Everyone contributes to the pack." Sounded nice. But I wasn’t sold. There were always people who abused power in subtle ways. I didn’t say that out loud though. "What’s your rank?" I asked instead. "Warrior. Beta blood," she said proudly. "Do you train?" "Yep! Been building muscle ever since I got my wolf." She grinned and flexed. I laughed. "Impressive." She beamed. When we reached her wing, she gave me a grand tour, brimming with joy. It was adorable. Like I was visiting for the first time—even though I designed it. She seemed genuinely surprised at how well it turned out. I did

She is giving instructions to the new Warrior Chief she appointed, and Mathew notices their trainings are a bit more intense than usual, as though the Alpha is expecting to be involved in a battle with another pack or something. Marcus, Mathew notices, has joined the warriors as well. Great for him. After the humiliation he has gone through of having the highest position in the pack taken away from him, being a warrior is a wise choice. A warrior position is a very respectable position in any pack. Marcus must know that Emily already told him that she found out about the wife and now hates him, because, as soon as he sees Mathew, Marcus starts trying to strike a conversation with Emily. Math

"Franklin, look at the visual array on the grand mirror monitor!" Tahlia shouted, his chest heaving with pride as his hand-crafted image was broadcast across the entire colosseum. "This tactical visualization is unprecedented," an elder from the Vinqlo border clans declared from the upper gallery. "If this specific blend were offered at a frontline garrison outpost, surely it could command twenty pure silver shards from any captain!" "This isn't mere fluid work, it is active pack art!" a northern commander added.

The chamber at the end was round and high-ceilinged, and the walls were covered in paintings. They were ancient, the pigments faded but the images still clear. Theron, surrounded by three alphas, his white wolf blazing under a full moon. Mirren, building the Gray Reach, her hands full of stones. A timeline of Moon-Wolf history, painted by generations of artists who had never forgotten where they came from. And at the end of the chamber, the newest painting. A white wolf with three shadows. A battlefield soaked in red. A mother with amber-gold eyes. And beneath it, a single word painted in white.

Over 4000 battle-hardened warriors stood before them, all under the Lowell family's command. Many guests breathed heavily, realizing that with such a formidable army, Matthias was as weak as a baby. Two figures rushed forward from the crowd of Crimson Titans and knelt before Frederick. "Hail, Lord Frederick!" They were Draco and Gorgon, the other two Supreme-level warriors of the Crimson Titans. The sight left the guests feeling suffocated, filled with awe and fear. That was the true might of the Lowell family—three Supreme-level warriors and thousands of Crimson Titans soldiers.

His naked flesh warming mine despite the inches between us. I could feel the howling of his animal under his skin. Glimpsing the rippling of his skin and the seeping of fur between his pores as the wolf fought for dominance. Lowering his head, Warlord closed his eyes. Rumbling in his throat. And in a moment, he rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. Opening those vibrant blue eyes to level them on me. Back in control. I wondered briefly if anything could completely jolt his composure. Nothing I’ve seen yet.