อัศวิน Mga Nobela at Kwento

He was counting on Arcanus Master being the mastermind behind that, and if luck was on his side, Black Maple Master would be in the mix too. With the Alexa Sword at his side, he would cut them down without hesitation. Just as Alexander reached for the wine glass, laced with poison, ready to flip the script, a swift slap sent it flying. "The wine's been spiked. You can't drink that! Get out now! Asbar's after you, and he's got a thousand armed goons outside," blurted Winnie, her voice thick with the weight of her decision. Asbar had played his hand, calling in his full force for a showdown with Alexander.

Joe's voice sounding along with them, as he pushed his men forward through the frey of black armored soldiers, stark against their own glowing silver armour. Ambrose was cutting through men like grass, when he felt a knee trembling flash of terror and fear, deep within him. He paused his fighting, leaving himself exposed, just as a soldier lifted his sword to cut the Lord down. When a slither of metal pierced right through the back of the soldier's neck, gurgling on his own blood, the soldier collapsed - to reveal the bloodied face of Ravyn. The Shadow's eyes, filled with the icy determination of a warrior in battle.

“This is impossible.” “So was the Whisper Cut,” he murmured. “So was the Serpent’s Maw. We specialize in impossible.” From the courtyard far below, a horn blew—a long, low note that echoed off the cliffs. A scout’s signal. They pulled apart, the moment receding but not breaking. The world, with its perils and politics, was calling. “The first of the lords’ parties has been sighted,” Leigh said, her warrior’s mask settling back into place, but her eyes remained soft, holding his. “Gryffen’s colors are among them.”

With that statement, Aries hisses his agreement. Images begin to project on the wall behind her as she continues to speak. Which is weird considering she hasn't moved an inch. "Ironclad dragons. Phoenixes. Leviathans. Direwolves. Storm Gryphons. Moon Serpents. Flame Hounds. Cerberus'. Unicorns. Frost Lynxes. Kitsune. Ash Ravens. Nemean Lions." She says with confidence as the images change behind her head still without any movement. "And of course the many extinct or the now unwilling bonds that you will learn more about in your history classes." she says as the images flick again and my breath stalls.

Ash’s POV The roar of the clubhouse hit me before I even turned off my engine. Laughter, shouts and the sound of bottles clinking rent the air and for a moment, I wonder how they could easily fall back into their normal lives less than twelve hours after an attack. It was chaos the way I remembered it, but somehow louder and more… non challant. Inside, the air was thick with smoke and sweat. A few brothers cheered when they saw me, others nodded, their eyes sharp, reading me like they weren’t sure what version of Ash had come back.

The packs howled again, the sound swelling into something primal, courage in its rawest shape. Lisa’s smile twisted. She lifted her hand. The wind coiled like a serpent ready to strike. I braced myself, and then a snarl split the right flank. Every head turned. A lone figure moved through the ranks of rogues, slow, calm, as if the battlefield belonged to him. For a heartbeat, every wolf around me tensed, ready to launch. I stepped forward, teeth bared. “LORENZO.” I snapped. “You fucking dare show yourself in our lands? “

Despite the poison. Despite the wounds. Despite the impossible odds. He bares his teeth. “Stay behind me.” I sigh softly. Stubborn wolf. Because the moment Rowan prepares to fight— One of the hunter wolves suddenly kneels. And whispers a name. “Alpha Varkas… help us.”

Making Ruby chuckle. "But honestly, that Madison is senseless."

I The morning sun shinned bright in the first days of winter, giving a false feeling of warmth. Herbog walked up the creaking, dried oaken steps. He stopped, looked at the guards on the palisade. The guard turned to left, continued down the palisade. Herbog looked up at the sigil of House Aswar, a proud lion danced on the light breeze. He wondered was it a good omen or a bad one, he wasn't very religious, most problems he resolved with the sword, if you could call that large piece of steel a sword. The soldier waited for him to get up, Herbog turned towards the show-covered field; it will be a harsh winter, it always was and will be, ever since the new king came.