A Fate Inked In Blood Characters นิยาย & เรื่องราว

The taste of blood lingered on his tongue, the metallic tang a reminder of the stakes they faced. Sangre, his eyes ablaze with a mix of dominance and sadistic pleasure, loomed over Fester. He stood like a colossus, an embodiment of unyielding power, his presence commanding the attention of all. His voice, a chilling blend of triumph and malice, filled the air, echoing through the clearing with an air of absolute authority.

And whats a mate? “Oh Girly I have been waiting centuries for you, you were destined to find this man and to become a werewolf, it was written by fate long before even this man right here was born. He is our Mate, he is what connects us to life, he is where our future is. I have seen your past girly and I am sorry for the heartbreak you have endured in your life time, no child deserves to be abandoned and to feel the pain you felt. That trauma, those experiences, your choices led you to that day when he found you almost dead. Fate led you to him. Fate led him to you, Fate wrote your life story to lead you to him, to lead you to me. You always felt empty, like you needed more like you were me

“Forgot to mention, you need to use blood for this contract. Normal ink doesn’t work.” Without thinking too much, Adam dip the end of the feather into the tiny bowl filled with his blood and signed don the end of each pages. Once he was done. The man stood up and calls out to his men. Royce was pulled roughly towards him and thrown at Adam. The chain around his hand made contact to his neck and Adam hiss at the burning sensation. “Nice doing business with you King Adam. After this, you won’t be seeing me anymore so I bid you a happy life to come. That is…if they want you too.”

"Shouldn't be the 26th who would guide you?" Chloe raised one of her eyebrows. "The two Blood Stars prior to me was not even declared as one officially. Remember that they died at their infant stages." She caught a glimpse at Blaise's clenched fists. He was silent all throughout their conversation, which was uncharacteristic for him. She decided to ignore it for a little while and turned to Jucel. "What else?" "The blessing that the Fates gave the Blood Star was like a double-edged sword. Once the Blood Star defeated the Great Witch, the former will be killed as well."

“And Lia? Clean your knuckles. The blood under your fingernails is too careful. Too clean. Real blood stays for days.” She fled into the neon-lit night, the walls of her identity crumbling around her. She had infiltrated the Moretti family. And in doing so, she had been utterly, completely caught. The hunt was on, but she was no longer the hunter. She was the prey on a very short, very invisible leash, held by the most dangerous man she had ever met. And the ghost of her sister’s earring seemed to burn in the darkness between them, a silent witness to the devil’s bargain she had just made.

​Slash! ​Unsheathing my fingernails, which had suddenly hardened into black, claw-like points, I dragged them across my left wrist without a single second of hesitation. Fresh, dark crimson blood—nearly pitch black—poured heavily onto the cold marble floor. A sharp, biting pain pierced my consciousness, but it was nothing compared to the absolute fire of vengeance consuming my chest. ​With this blood, I lock our fates, I chanted silently, shutting my eyes tight. ​Whoosh!

“That’s it. Give me all of it.” She struggled violently as her blood dripped into the vial, drop by drop, swirling with a faint golden glow. The glow of Luna blood. The glow of fate. The glow of what would soon belong to me. “You will be so sorry when I get out of here,” Charlotte spat through clenched teeth. “You will hate yourself.” “Oh, darling,” I said, lifting the nearly full vial to the light, watching it shimmer with destiny, “I already do.” Because this blood was the final ingredient. The key to controlling her mind. Just as the ritual required.

My breath stopped. It was a dagger. It was very heavy and short and had a wicked design. The hilt had the royal carving, which was the mark of the Lycan family because it was only us that could keep it. Blood crusted at the edge and clung in the creases of the metal. I could see the dried smear down the blade. I crouched there as the world narrowed to the dagger in my palm. The blood was still a bit fresh and tacky but not rotten. I held it closer and inhaled the smell. It smelled exactly like my father. It was my father’s blood.

“You are the story that should not be.” Kael’s knees trembled. “What are you?” “I am the one who finishes you.” The black thread in Kael’s chest pulsed, in rhythm with the figure’s breath, He clutched his ribs. “No…” “You let me in when you refused to choose.” “You gave me power when you tried to rewrite fate.” “You became my ink.” Kael’s back arched with pain. The gold and white threads tried to counter it, shimmering inside him, But the black was spreading. Twisting around his heart, His spine, His mind.