Warriors Gray Wing Novels & Stories

Every wing is named to identify or differentiate the route. I took a turn and stopped at a large tapestry. This was my first time seeing it. It was a fine art of a Warrior. He held a sword. A long scar ran across his face, and his hair was braided into two long cornrows. I needed no one to tell me who it was. I stared at the way he held his sword, his hand firm against the steel, eyes sharp, and almost scary. His mouth is wide open in a war cry, and his body is fluid in boldness.

The other curved backward in a brutal sweep, thicker than Apollo’s and ridged along its length, as though designed less for ceremony and more for impact. His wings were folded tight behind him, but even restrained, they carried weight. They were not the flexible, membranous stretch of Apollo’s; they were denser, layered in plates edged with serrated bone. Each ridge caught the firelight and fractured it, casting sharp shadows across the stone. In battle, those wings would not glide. They would cleave.

“They have sent so many demands ahead of us that I fear the accords will be over before we arrive.” Warren smiled faintly. “Then we will make them wait.” Grayson looked at him, then at me, and for a moment I thought he might say something more. But he only shook his head, muttered something about politics, and went to check the packs. When he was gone, Warren crouched by the stream, letting the water run through his fingers. “It feels wrong,” he said quietly. “What does?” “To ride in peace. To see life return so easily.”

They were vicious against enemies, the shapeless assassins and spies that could penetrate the defences of any threat whilst also providing aid to those that they obey. A faint shuddering in the shadows hinted at the appearance of the wolves. They moved cautiously, looking to avoid the last of the dappled light that fell between the pine trees. Slowly their forms took shape like watery images of beasts, their bodies floating and swirling like smoke and mist. Behind the witch, the warriors shifted uneasily, still not used to seeing these curious creatures. “Look, Signe! Do you see them?” Estrid cooed to her daughter, pointing to the first of the shadowy figures that stepped out from the roilin

’ A bulky chestnut colored wolf with gold markings linked his trio. **Kugri** ‘What do they want out here, with us? Don't they have enough in their bowls dealing with the Rogues?’ A smaller gray wolf growled. **Moon** ‘Their intentions are good as far as for them being in our presence. That makes them worthy of talking to.’ A pale, almost invisible wolf asked quietly. **Shyfter**

I had his arm pinned to his back while my wings beat at the air in big swings causing feathers and dust to cascade around us. He may be fast, but I was stronger, with wings. I pushed off of him, jumping as my wings beat downwards propelling me upward, and I perched on the railing that ran along the edge of the first floor platform. There I waited while he straightened his cloths. I hurt the wolfs pride, but what must be done is now done.

Which would mean that he was leading this whole army throughout the day and night with no more sleep than I typically had. He has to be tiring. I still hoped that there’d be a sign of weakness or a moment he wasn’t looking that I could try and find my way away from him. And the Pyre Army. And get the hell out of King Eternus’ reach. *** Once we were clear of the villagers and Kareni’s goons, Gray stopped me and drew something silver from the inside pocket of his blue cloak. Lifting it carefully revealed that it was a long, thin, silver chain.

A dark green banner where the light gray symbol of a leathery winged wolf sat in the middle. Banner of the DragonWolves, the 50th Regiment. “Captain Jovin Likaya and Captain Aster Likaya reporting for duty.” The two entered the tent and introduced themselves, getting ready to salute at any commander in the vicinity. The officer’s face was burned beyond recognition, her eyes seemingly lost in the scarification.

Chris was always very confident in Night Wing’s abilities. A few hours earlier, the chopper had stopped in a private airspace where they had dropped off Night Wing and two subordinates who would be accompanying him on this mission before taking off to head towards their destination. Night Wing was dressed in his customary attire as the Commander General of the Night Empire; he wore a skintight black outfit with belt fitted with all sorts of gadgets and a black floor length cape with a Dragon and Phoenix embroidered in royal purple and silver. Similarly, he wore a mask that was similar to the other Night Empire warriors with the only difference being the silver and purple detailing that signi

Everyone was watching me like a hawk. “You are the first female warrior in GrayCrest history. If my brothers deemed you worthy of that title, then I believe their judgment. But I want to see what made them so sure, since I am in charge of the GrayCrest army. And I can’t do that if you are crouching at the very back,” he replied, his voice hard.