Wreck-it Ralph Markowski Novels & Stories

I deleted the message immediately, and set the phone down with shaking hands. I decided not to tell anyone except Marco. "He's playing games." Marco said when I showed him the deleted message on my recovery log. "He's trying to get inside your head Alpha…beware of him." "It's working Marco, he's getting into my head." I admitted. "Don't let him in Alpha." His voice was firm. "Kest profits from chaos, if he's reaching out, that means he thinks there's chaos to profit from." "Or there is a possibility that, he knows something about Ralph." I countered slowly.

“Tell them we’ll need their forces soon. And reach out to my uncle, let him know about our new plan. Marcus nodded and turned to leave, but Ralph’s voice stopped him before he could exit. “One more thing,” Ralph said, his tone darker, more menacing. “If anyone gets in the way this time, I want them eliminated. No hesitation. No mercy.” “Yes, Alpha,” Marcus replied, bowing his head before quickly leaving the room. Alone once more, Ralph stood in front of the map, his gaze fixed on the mark indicating Damien’s stronghold. His lips curled into a cruel smile as he envisioned his enemy’s downfall.

Knowing that at least one version of Lawrence was once certain to be nearby, sure to need him. The room used to be white. White sheets on the bed in front of him, white-framed window in the corner, shiny white sunshine beating through the pane. For a moment, all was quiet. Then the chatter of memories rushed in. Milan. He was once again in the health center where she had been his nurse in the course of the first of the mortal world wars. There, in the bed in the corner, was once Traverti, his roommate from Salerno whod stepped on a land mine on his way to the canteen. Both of Travertis legs had been burned and broken, however he was so charming he had all the nurses sneaking him bottles of w

I smirked at him, wondering what he was going to say this time. ““Where are your passes boys? I assume you have a reason to be late, Mr. Marshall?” Mr. Jenkins asked. Obviously, he asked me because I was Alpha of the Crescent Pack. I was leader and I was supposed to take care of all the responsibilities. Oh well, I was only in high school. I’ll let Warren take care of it again. He was the most responsible one. I shook my head and smirked. “Mr. Jenkins, you know I’m not the responsible one.”

I stood in the wreckage of the nursery, looking at the silver-oak wolf carving Marek had given Leo—now nothing but a pile of splinters and scorched dust. "The Marrow Protocol," I rasped, my voice sounding like raw meat being dragged over a gravel road. "Tell me exactly what that means, Marcus." Marcus stood at the jagged opening where the windows used to be, his face illuminated by the sickly purple flares of the Council ships retreating into the upper atmosphere.

I said carefully, and the man’s olive-skinned face broke into an amused smile. “That’s funny, neither do I.” He whispered and the hard edge in his voice told me he wasn't a wolf to be messed with. I had heard tales of Markov the Slayer. A white-haired wolf with the power to wield silver swords and not take any damage himself. A feat that exhausted even the great Fedora. There was no doubt that we would need him out there on the field seeing as the elders had refused to give us more soldiers. “To war and bloodshed then,” My smile was full of teethstopping just short of my cold, hard eyes before I snatched a goblet from the outstretched tray of a servant, raising it in the air as the wolves su

But there. Two puncture marks. Small. Precise. Deliberate. A bite mark. He'd MARKED her. The fucking wolf had MARKED her. The glass in my hand shattered. Whiskey and blood mixing. Dripping. I didn't feel it. Didn't care. Rage consumed everything. Blocked everything. Made everything red. Made everything— He'd dared. He'd DARED to put his mark on what was mine. To claim her. To— To create a foothold in my corruption.

“Master! Lucas Roselli is in the box 23” “Hmm” Ralph closed his eyes leaning back on the back seat thinking about the attack on the powerhouse. He never would’ve imagined that a mysterious group to disguise as his men to destroy Kingsters powerhouse. He asked Dylan to get the details of the attack and as he predicted they used the weapons with BlackWolf clan symbol making everyone believe that it’s him who issued the order but the truth is he didn’t and given with their long history of enmity, the odds are at his side automatically.

Alonzo’s limousine sped away into the night. “Are you okay?” Markos asked, his tone softer now. I nodded, though my hands were still shaking. The thought that something could have happened was appalling. “Thank you. I don’t know what he was planning, but it didn’t feel right.” Markos’s expression hardened. “Alonzo is a sex trafficker, Hazel. You need to be careful.” I furrowed my eyebrows at him. “How do you know?” He didn’t answer me. Instead, he opened the passenger door for me and gestured for me to enter. The tension between us was palpable, the silence was heavy, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

I didn't tell him that I didn't believe that was the problem, but honestly, I didn't believe it. "Who was the freakazoid?" I asked seriously, changing the subject. William sat down on the chair in the room. "His name is Marcov, he is a vampire cross wizard. He is a Russian hit man. But you take a risk in hiring him. He is ruthless, and there is normally casualties or collateral damage, but he always gets his target. He has a power not to be messed with. He is brutal and likes playing with his victims. He runs through partners like it is nobody's business, but even knowing this, females and males fall head over heals for him." He paused and cleared his throat.