Warner Yakko Novels & Stories

Ditto buddy! “What? You can fly over the river as a wolf?” I shot. “Almost, I am one of the fastest wolves in Astoria,” Kent said. Not bragging but just like it was a fact. “Why don’t you transform and I hop on your back? I can hold on pretty tight.” I suggested. Kent turned to me slowly. He looked beyond angry. “How dare you!” “What?” I asked, confused. “How dare you ask an Alpha to be your mule? I have never, will never, let anyone ride my back.” He explained further.

"Drink, dance, and party all night, Alarick. Soon, you'll be begging me to give you back your little Luna. I scuff as I see Skylar and his mate sitting at a table nearby. So they are friends. I should have known. No wonder he wasn't hesitant to help their pack the last time I tried to attack them. "We'll just have to see who is more resilient, little Ricky. You... Or me?" I ask as I stare in anger at the screen before me, clenching my jaw and fisting my hands. ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Ace flashed me his pearly whites, looking at me with flirty hazel orbs before yelling on top of his lungs, "Jericho, you have one minute to get your ass down here or else I'm going burn every piece of technology you own." "Go fuck yourself, Ace," I heard a raspy voice yell back. It wasn't deep or gravelly. It was actually warm and welcoming even with the cussing. "Jericho," Gunnar yelled this time, face contorting into a grimace, "get down here now. This isn't up for discussion." The groan Jericho offered in reply sounded exaggerated but we all knew he would be coming down. Even at his home, Gunnar's word was law.

Clad in short-sleeved shirts, they slowly looked around, staring deadly at the people inside the room at this moment. The leader of the gang had on a T-shirt and a sling pouch bag. He took a long puff before he growled in a raspy voice, “Who was the one who booked this room? I want you to move to another room now!” “Why should we do that? Who do you guys think you are?” Cindy asked angrily as she stood up. She was not afraid of them at all. “Who am I? Hah, girl. I am Warrick Yackel. If you don’t know who I am, go out on the streets and ask anyone about me!”

“You keep telling me that. You are right, as I choose reality, I choose being positive. As you already discovered I go off on my own. The picture always in my head, this little old lady with one big ass Harley Davidson all chrome monster of a motorcycle.” Jack burst out laughing, then stopped surprise about the sound. Jazz instantly reach out and touch his hand looking into his eyes. “Guess what Jack, I can see picture you also on a Harley. But at the moment I am a bit in conflict.” “About what?” he just had to asked. “I know I am cool and collected. You I still have to decide between raspberry grey or smooth silvery.” “Are you saying you can actually picture me already as an old man? I can’

Jacob said Yeah....yay

I swear it. When I returned to the pack house, Jake was already there, his face twisted in pain as he spoke with a group of warriors. He looked up as I approached, his eyes locking onto mine. “Who?” he asked simply. “Tim,” I said, my voice breaking. “They killed Tim.” Jake’s expression darkened, his jaw clenched so tightly I thought it might break. He turned away, slamming his fist into the nearest wall. The sound echoed through the room, a raw, physical manifestation of his rage.

I don't want to be with women who are greedy. "Then tell her to fuck off." I grumbled. "My highness, I don't think it's relevant for me to say that to the princess." Warren said nervously, beside me. I rolled my eyes and brushed my teeth, I spat out the paste and washed my mouth. "Let Roman tell her to fuck off." I said to Warren who widened his eyes. Roman, my friend, is a specialist in rupture and harsh words that are considered severe. "I don't think the count would love his son spitting out rude words." He scratched the back of his neck as he handed me out my uniform.

“Is it right here? No—wait. Maybe a bit more to the left?” I stayed quiet, watching him struggle as he moved the jack again. A metallic scrape echoed as it slipped. Fred cursed under his breath. “Damn thing won’t stay put.” Another slip. Then— Footsteps. Quick and deliberate. Warren was back. He didn’t say anything at first. He just marched straight over, his jaw tight, eyes flashing. Without warning, he snatched the jack out of Fred’s hands. “For God’s sake,” Warren growled. “You couldn’t even find the support point. Were you trying to snap the damn undercarriage?”

Jake replied and grinned as he drove them back to the clubhouse. Warren didn’t say anything, but he gave Jake a look as he pulled up to the clubhouse and parked his truck at the back of the bar. He followed Jake when he got out and headed to a side door. Jake scanned his palm and typed in a code before the door clicked open. Inside the clubhouse, Warren was greeted by men wearing Warrior cuts. He glanced around at the men all staring at him and he knew then that he never would’ve made it inside this place, not with the intention of walking out again.