Warriors Crookedstar Mga Nobela at Kwento

“How is the Moon Crescent pack holding up?” “Badly. They lost most of their warriors and the damage we dealt to them was so severe that it might take them a whole year to recover their losses. But their pride wouldn't let them back down from a fight they can't win so their only option is to keep sending out warriors until all their resources has been depleted.” I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding and stared into the depths of his indigo eyes and a creep smile was plastered one his lips.

Warriors were training outside, their sharp movements and powerful strikes filling the air with a rhythmic intensity. As we stepped out into the warm sunlight, a few members paused to greet me. “Luna,” a tall, broad-shouldered man called out with a polite nod. His voice was deep, steady. I recognized him as Marco, one of the warriors I’d seen around Tristan. He had a scar slicing down his left cheek, making him look more intimidating than he actually was. “Good morning, Marco,” I greeted, offering a small smile. His lips twitched as if amused. “It’s good to see you walking around. Last night was… eventful.”

“He won’t put his sister in harm’s way.” Omen cleared his throat and Jake turned to look at him. “When I was recruited to the Warriors, I had to be sponsored by a permanent member of the club to prospect. It was the same for Weasel, Rebel, and Shadow. Are we going to stick to that or how are we going to recruit new prospects since we currently don’t have any?”

What… what was happening? Before I could ask, another warrior approached carrying a black cloak. Unlike mine… this one bore the silver crescent emblem of Silver Moon Pack stitched across the shoulder. The head warrior gestured, and the warriors immediately released me. My knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the ground. The head warrior tossed the cloak toward me. "Wear it." I stared at him in confusion. "You have one hour." His voice was cold. "Leave Silver Moon territory before then. If you're found here after that..."

The mention of the Arcade pack is not surprising; it is indeed one of the largest and most formidable packs, yet they pale in comparison to the Crimson pack. Historically, both packs engaged in a fierce conflict. According to accounts, the then-alpha of the Crimson pack was so powerful that the war only ended after two days something that was supposed to last months, ultimately leading the Arcade pack to retreat, conceding victory to the Crimson pack. This formidable alpha was known as Draco the Strong, a figure feared by many, and both he and his mate have become legends.

The man uttered a high-pitched scream. “That was just a taste.” Kane said, casually as if discussing the weather. He drew back again, watching the man’s face intently. Joffrey sat on a crate, observing the scene, seemingly disinterested. The whip cracked again, this time drawing blood. I noticed one of the men had a tribal tattoo on his right arm. I went closer to inspect it. I recognized it as the mark of the Bloodlust Warriors, a Canadian pack. I grabbed the man by the hair, growling, “You are from the Bloodlust Warriors. Why are you here?”

"We are gathered here to witness the induction of a new warrior. Wayne Morris, who has shown courage, honor, and loyalty, will receive the title of warrior." I straightened my gaze, placing my right hand on his head. Wayne bowed his head in respect. "Wayne," I said in a calm yet authoritative voice, "I hereby appoint you as a warrior of the Celestial Dawn pack. Do you swear to protect the weak, defend justice, and uphold the dignity of the warrior?" "I do," Wayne replied in a steady voice. Wayne turned his face upwards with his eyes closed. The nail of my thumb slowly scratched a long line on Wayne's forehead. The blood flowing down his face showed the courage of a warrior's determination.

Evangeline managed a shaky grin. When it was over, the howls shook the whole damn forest. Bet the MoonClaw Pack heard and wondered who had the guts to throw a party in rogue territory. Who the hell was rising up. Guess they’d find out. Meanwhile, Kieran Cross sat on the edge of the training grounds, shirtless, bruised, sweating like he’d just run through hell. Warriors circled him, licking their wounds from the last scrap with the rogues. Guy looked calm, but you could see the anger boiling right under the surface.

Mizu replied back, smiling, she was thankful they were more approachable than what she thought, and to this talkative guy. "Uh-huh, you're the youngest among us, oh wait... " Zhi eyes swift his gaze to the guy standing in the corner in a cross arm and on his own world. The other three followed his gaze as well. From a glance, he was extremely aloof. He was the top guy among them, who killed plenty. The weapon he used was a scimitar sword. His handsome features were also unparalleled to anybody. Black hair and black eyes are quite endearing, even his voice, "I don't want to play a fake team with a bunch of twerps." though he is straightforwardly rude.