Warlords Ruin Imprisoned Novels & Stories

He buckled in on himself, his arms wrapping around his midsection as he sank to the ground, and I rolled my eyes at how pitiful he truly was. The light was fading fast, but I’d seen enough already to know this guy was high as hell right now. I didn’t have any idea what kind of drug had him acting this way, but he was endangering Rune and her children by being here while his mind was in an altered state. I clenched my jaw, keeping one eye on Damian who’d curled up into a ball on the rough ground, the shards of glass from the window glimmering in the low light, while simultaneously risking a glance up at the window.

I stated flatly. I reached up, my small, pale hand gripping the heavy leather collar of his armor. "You locked your generals in the deepest cells of Level Three," I said, my voice leaving no room for argument. "Beta Torin. General Kael. Elder Vance. You stripped the Vanguard of its commanders out of paranoia. But Valerius didn't use Torin to infiltrate this keep. Valerius used the Warlock. The Warlock opened the door, and the Warlock is dead."

I shook my head in frustration as I bowed down. "Don't attach the long-dead Lou! A 5 MONTH GROUND IS IN EFFECT! get out of my sight right away! Never leave your room, either. For five months, if you refuse then you can stay in the Dungeon." He stated icily while avoiding looking at me. As he turned his back and prepared to approach his swivel chair, I look dismayed at him and say, "Are you truly like that and you can put me in the prison as your own child?"

Silver flames burned along the walls without heat, casting eerie light across hundreds of kneeling figures below. Hollows. Thousands of them. Their heads bowed in absolute silence. And at the center of it all. me. No. Her. The first Queen of Ruin sat upon a throne of obsidian, draped in dark armor lined with glowing cracks. A silver crown rested upon her head like it belonged there. Like it had never belonged anywhere else. Her face slowly lifted. And I was staring at myself. Same eyes. Same face. Only colder. Older. Broken in ways I couldn’t understand.

"Put him in a death stasis using Cassian's magic. She was going to let the spell lock permanently. Keep him trapped forever while she opened the Lycan Vault." "The vault is a myth." "No, it's not." A new voice from the doorway. Everyone turned. A scarred warrior stood there, his face covered in old claw marks. Behind him, fifteen more wolves. "Who are you?" Jetstar demanded. "Dax. From the Outcast Lands." The warrior stepped inside. "And these are wolves you exiled over the past three years. Every single one of us was banished because we refused Arlene's orders. Orders she gave through Damoew while he was under compulsion."

“Riven, listen to me—” Riven covered Luca’s hand with his own. “If I walk away, it finds someone else.” Wolf stiffened. “That’s not your responsibility.” Riven met his gaze. “It is if I’m the only one who can survive it.” He turned back to the throne. And sat. The moment his skin touched stone, the world shattered. THE CROWN’S MEMORY He was everyone. A warlord crowned in blood. A judge who erased districts. A queen who fed rebels to the streets.

I slid the pistol back into its holster. I turned to my men. "Package him. Leave him at Raj Varma's front gate. And if he asks who sent him..." I picked up my cigarette one last time, took a final drag, then crushed it beneath my shoe. "Tell him… courtesy of Ghost." I turned toward the warehouse doors. Without looking back, I said to them. "The war begins today." They moved immediately. Jax walked up beside me. "What now?" I looked toward the open warehouse doors, where daylight spilled across the concrete floor.

"To protect the world, of course. To protect our kingdoms, our continents, our people. You contain a curse inside you that will destroy us all if left unchecked. It's my sacred duty to stop that from happening." "No," I said firmly. "I don't believe that. I don't believe I'm cursed or destined to destroy anything." "Well, that's none of my business what you believe," he said dismissively. "The important thing is that you're here now, and you're going to—" But before he could finish his sentence, the warehouse door exploded inward with a deafening crash. Dust and debris filled the air as a figure stepped through the destroyed entrance, power radiating from him in waves so intense I could feel

He had contained the beast so perfectly it was as if he wasn't there at all. A fierce, profound wave of pride washed over Lucian, temporarily cooling his own fire. This was his pack. His family. Three of the most powerful Alphas on the continent, each waging their own silent war against their most primal instincts, all to honor the vow they had made to this one, broken, beautiful omega. Their discipline was absolute. Their loyalty was unbreakable.

The door opened and James stepped inside. He bowed immediately. “My lord.” Jerald turned and moved toward the desk, settling into the chair with a controlled grace that spoke of authority earned, not given. “What’s been going on in the clan?” Jerald asked calmly. James straightened. “A lot, my lord.” Jerald folded his hands together. “Let me have it.” James inhaled. “We’ve lost two shipments in the past month. One intercepted at sea… the ship was damaged badly. Crew survived, but the goods were lost.”