Warriors Mudclaw Novels & Stories

I looked right at Swiftclaw, not blinking, and said something strong. "Maybe I can't beat you all by myself, but I have something you don't, Swiftclaw: my warriors will fight with me till the end." I said this, hoping Swiftclaw would understand. Swiftclaw's smile turned into a mean grin. "Being loyal won't help you, Marco. Your warriors won't save you from what's coming. My army is stronger than yours."

The courtyard of the Blackwood Keep had become a graveyard of hierarchies. Pack warriors, who had once sneered at "rogues," were now fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with the Shadow Claws. The distinction between the "Pure" and the "Defective" had been incinerated by the reality of the Blood-Moon’s hunger.

He kicked the heavy armored door of his luxury SUV, the metal groaning as he violently forced it open, stepping out into the freezing, sideways highland deluge. His polished leather shoes immediately sank six inches into the thick, freezing peat mud, ruining his tailored trousers. Above him, the sky boomed with another massive roll of thunder, as if the glen itself were laughing at his ruined vanity. Looking down the ravine, he watched his highly paid, heavily armed human mercenaries shrieking in terror as giant silver wolves ripped through their tactical gear, while silent, invisible elven arrows rained death from the canopy. Malakai stood in the mud, his hair plastered to his face, his eye

It howls in pain but refuses to attack me. This pisses me off so I launch myself at him again, I land on his back. He starts to flip trying to get me off but I sink my claws in even deeper. I spot Clay in a fight with two of Dylan’s warriors but I am not bothered as they are no match for my mate.

He always tries to watch and disappears into the privy afterward. My stomach knots. I’m in deep trouble. My wolf and I both instinctively look to Clay for help, but he’s glaring Eldrick down. Eldrick is the largest Claw, at least six foot tall and 250 pounds, but Clay’s people have been Ditches for generations, and our rank breeds bigger. Eldrick’s chest begins to rumble, too, and he draws back his thick lips to show off his descended fangs. Claws never retract them. It’s meant to frighten folks into baring their necks, and it works. I duck my head even lower.

I twisted, shifted partially—my claws raked across the marble as my back arched and my fangs elongated. My vision blurred, and my body was failing from my previous battles. Still, I fought. I fought like the feral wolf I was born to be. One warrior went down with a bone-snapping thud—my claws had carved straight across his chest. Another tried to blindside me and ended up flying across the room when I grabbed him by the throat and flung him into a broken column. For a fleeting second, the room pulsed with energy, and the tide felt like it could change.

Warriors staggered, some dropping to one knee as the tremors rippled outward. “What the—” someone shouted. Then they came. From beneath the sand, hands burst through the surface. Then arms. Then bodies. Rogues. Thousands of them. They clawed their way up from the earth like demons rising from hell, red eyes glowing, lips pulled back in snarls that dripped with hunger and madness. The air filled with growls, howls, the stench of bloodlust so thick it made my wolf slam against my chest. Solomon stood still, his posture ready for battle. “Formation!”

jawline. That scar near his ear. But from where? My brain clawed through old memories. Missions. Training grounds. The Moonclaw ranks. Who the fuck was he? There was sudden shift of air— Then Tristan appeared like a storm, half-shifted, eyes glowing ice blue, a snarl ripping from his throat. He slammed into the traitor with terrifying force. They hit the ground hard. Kate rolled free, crying but alive. “Lila! Get Kate!” I shouted. Lila darted in, scooped her up, and vanished into the trees, summoning a barrier behind her with a flick of her wrist. I joined Tristan in the fight. We moved in sync, two wolves against one. I slashed across the traitor’s ribs; Tristan caught him wi

The shadow warriors, set out with savage intent in their eyes, and with a fire burning in their bones, resolute to carry out the objective of capturing their targets, either alive or dead. The Ridgewood warriors charged forward, their teeth bared and claws extended. Malik met them head-on, his own fangs gleaming in the sunlight. He moved with a fluid grace, dodging their attacks and countering with precise strikes. His muscles rippled with power as he fought, his senses heightened and instincts honed from years of training and experience. Malik and his comrades fought with all their might, their weapons slicing through the air, meeting the claws and fangs of the Ridgewood pack warriors. The

“What in the—” From that distance, the corrupted scout tilted its head. And then a sound, not quite a growl, not quite a laugh, scraped out of its throat. I took a step back instinctively. Several more shapes limped out of the trees, twitching, half-feral but too precise to be mindless. Their chests heaved with quick, unnatural breaths. Their claws scraped grooves into the dirt. “Positions!” Liam roared now, growing out his claws. The warriors obeyed, but not without terror in their eyes.