Warrior Cats Novels & Stories

Diana My eyes widen to the size of saucers. What? He continues nonchalantly. “They also happen to be bringing along with them their entire army of Council Warriors.” A chill runs through me, and my heart sinks. The Council warriors. I remember them vividly—their power, their silent presence. They are wolves unlike any I’d ever seen. Their stature alone makes ordinary pack warriors look like children. The discipline they exude, the raw, controlled power… it is like they are carved from stone. And the way they move, fluid but so precise, like an army of blades—tight, reserved, but dangerous.

My Dad might fancy such but I’m not my Dad. I noticed most of the Warriors were middle-aged he-wolves and she-wolves, but I also noticed some young adults, like me too. I could imagine they had started Combat classes at an early age and had done remarkably well in training for them to have been able to be Reignile Warriors at such a young age. So that basically meant every Warrior here was older than me by Combat rank. I hadn’t finished my combat classes, remember? It had been interrupted twice. Both times by the one and only Cayden.

Nothing. Lady Dana stood by while Katarina snapped her fingers, and howl split the air, then another, then a whole chorus of them as the wolves poured out of the shadows, strong, tall, the elite, the warriors of the Parson Pack; trained for war; trained for capture. Victoria’s stomach plummeted. Lady Dana’s voice would not rise, or waver. “You are welcome to join us, Victoria.” The warriors moved in. “Or you can watch him die.”

“I can’t…” “We are the last line of defense Wolf Creek has, Blood Moon has our children, pregnant, young, and elderly safe. Blood Moon warriors are waiting to aid us, we are here to fight for our Alpha who has done nothing but fight and provide for us,” Kitty interrupts me, making me blush and nod my head glad that they already have a plan.

Something I saw too much of, even before I spilled it with my own hands. The tapestry depicted a battle, wolves against cats. I thought I heard something where Black River was stolen from the werecats, and Blood Moon’s territories used to border the werecats until Black Moon stole land from them and claimed it as their own. With that kind of history, it wasn’t surprising that their descendants turned out to be as odious and entitled as they were. Ancient history, either way, and no way of telling what was actually true without being colored by hate and bias.

I was dumbfounded, and I didn't understand why the Warriors didn't support each other against Rogues but slaughter each other. Elias clenched his fist. "Because they want to compete for the top spot. As I said, this is no longer a contest; it's more like a real war, and only the winner is the last one standing. Moreover, in the process of fighting with Rogues, warriors will kill them and steal the silver fangs that are worn around their necks. By the end of the third day, whoever is alive and has the most gamblers becomes the winner. So the warriors would hide in the forest to save their strength, usually until the last day they showed up and slaughtered each other."

Aside from being unusually long, they were curved, too—like the claws of a cat. “Stay here,” Mei said. “I’ll give a signal when it’s safe to follow.” Two guards were patrolling the corridor that followed the hallway. Mei took down the first guard by slashing through his neck with her claws before moving on to the second guard. She moved so swiftly and silently that the second guard didn’t even notice her before it was too late. As Jade watched, she couldn’t help but compare Mei to a hunting tiger—agile, quiet, and precise. “You’re really good,” Jade said in admiration right after Mei had made her tenth kill.

As we descended into the subterranean colosseum, the noise became overwhelming. Two thousand warriors filled the stone tiers of the cavern. These were the Shadow Warriors—the battle-scarred outcasts of the Dead Woods. They were alphas, betas, and omegas who had been rejected by their birth packs, criminals who had survived the brutal winter wilderness, and veterans of forgotten border wars. They didn't wear uniforms; they wore heavy furs, iron chains, and leather straps over bodies covered in jagged claw scars. They were savage, and radiated a volatile pressure.

“So yes, the World Council has taken special interest. It seems though that you have veered off away from this particular approach though. Why is that?” Donatello’s eyes sliced into Raina. The first shown emotion was a brutal threat and most would’ve cowered. Kian didn’t like the way he was looking at her like he could murder her on the spot. Raina chuckled, shaking her head. “I guess my pussy was just that great that he couldn’t say no,” she said to the shock of everyone including Kian. She wasn’t wrong, but that wasn’t exactly what he expected her to say. “You want to call me a whore? Fine, go ahead. I don’t care. You already are, but I can tell you this, nobody in this warrior class will

I said, looking at the next guy. "Come on," I said, calling him. He was holding one sword, which made me drop one of my sword, to fight with him. "Please note that your enemy will not be as lenient as me to reduce my weapon, the more for them, the advantage it is," I explained. "You should have let us use our wolf form," he complained. "And why would I?" I asked. "Because that's how we were trained, if I am using my wolf mood, I am more confident to win you," he replied.