Warriors Frostfur Novels & Stories

"Anyway, the White Wolf's soldiers assigned for the operation later are Team, Simon, Seth, his girlfriend Rose Brandon and her brother, Ash Brandon." "I'm guessing the gay Wolf soldier you're talking about is this Ash?" Alexander said as he went through this Ash profile. White skin and red lips. What a perfect combination! Plus this man had an amazing muscles, abs, and well-built perfectly for him. Not to mention his name is incredibly sexy in his lips. Oh, after five years, he is so going to have so much fun later.

Maybe I can reveal the person that controls the rogue wolves since it connects to the same person that they said killed my parents. I am not going to die here, no I am going to live and reveal that secret. The determination made me wake up, reaching for my spear at the nic of time and using it to slash him as I tried standing up. "A numbing poison," I muttered knowing the bitch added another kind of poison to it. For some reason I was happy my team wasn't around, although they could have helped but that doesn't mean I wouldn't be putting their life at risk. He was fast, someone has been training them but they won't know this and would think he is just an ordinary rogue wolf and would attack

I shouted an order to my warriors. All of them howled in sync as they shifted into wolves like me. My wolf, Axel, was the biggest one among the other warriors. It seemed that it was inherent in my pack, the Varg Pack. After all, the Varg Pack was known to have the best warriors among the other two packs. Its fur was blonde like mine with piercing green eyes.

She had noticed that he seemed a little moved when she looked at him with her blue eyes, as though they were puppy eyes so she decided to test one last method on him. Rafe had excused himself to use the bathroom, while there, he heard the sound of a dog whimpering. He wasn't sure what it was so he decided to go about his business but when he came back, he couldn't find Snow anymore. He heard a noise behind him and spun around to find a bright white werewolf with blue eyes standing at the corner of the room, on a furry white carpet. Her fur glowed in the moonlight, making her look like a spirit of the night.

Soon, the car ride is filled with my parents talking about the Pack we would be visiting, Frost Moon. The Alpha, Alpha Damon Frost, has been in power for the last twenty years and has decided to give up his search for his mate to rule his pack properly. I felt bad for the wolf, as a mate is supposed to be a wonderful thing. But the one thing I did not agree on with Frost Moon Pack is this one rule, that only wolves who are Warriors are allowed to be mated into the pack.

The city lay cradled between stone cliffs and frozen pines, cloaked in mist and moonlight a neutral ground carved from old treaties and older blood. Even here, I could feel the tension in the air. Wolf-shifters moved through the streets in wary silence. Some bore the white tattoos of the Highland Clans, others the storm-gray brands of the South. They nodded as I passed, respectful, but wary. I was Frostfang, northern royalty and a healer in a world that only valued warriors. My wolf stirred beneath my skin. Something is wrong, Nemphis whispered. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t afford to listen to instincts, not here, not now. I looked up and admired the Hall.

They stirred nothing inside. I did not look back, and my steps grew lighter. "He must have regretted it. If you return now, Ms. Loria, there's still time to complete the marking ceremony with him." A cold voice cut in from beside me. I turned and pulled back the hood of his cloak. "Handing your mate to another, that doesn't sound like the Alpha Volf I've heard of." The face revealed carried a crushing weight beneath the pale winter sun. His silver hair and glacial blue eyes made it clear who he was—Volf Frostfang, the Alpha of the Frostfang pack, feared for his domineering wolf energy and iron fist.

"Mama, I saw something. A pack in the south. They're not like the Emberkin. They're not fire. They're... cold." "Cold?" "Ice. Frost. They worship stillness, not nothing. They think the Circle is too warm, too loud, too much." "Did they threaten anyone?" "Not yet. But they will." "When?" "Soon." --- I called a council. Not urgent—warning. The Frostfang, Luna Rose called them. A pack in the far south, cold worshippers who rejected the bond. "They're not our enemies yet," I said. "But they will be," Farrah said.

Logan stayed beside her, his hand in hers, his eyes on the horizon. “The Frostfang Pack,” he said quietly. “I have heard of them. They are old, powerful, feared. They have never pledged loyalty to anyone.” Aria looked at the wolf who had come to her gate, at the army that was gathering, at the future she was building. “They have now.”

That smile was what unsettled her most. It wasn’t joy. It was something darker. --- Inside the council chamber, Aria convened the leaders of the allied packs. The room was crowded: more had arrived since the last assembly—representatives from Rivermaw, Nightstone, and even the elusive Frostbound Clan of the highlands. The latter was led by Wren, a silver-haired warrior-priestess with ice-blue eyes and a cloak woven from snow owl feathers. “I speak for the Frostbound,” Wren said in her crisp, northern accent. “We do not follow warm-blooded rulers. But the old omens spoke of this—darkness rising beneath the teeth of the world. We are here because the Moon commands it.”