A Fate Inked In Blood Fanart Mga Nobela at Kwento

“He would believe it.” “Of course he would.” My eyes gleamed. “Because he already wants to.” I moved to my desk, pulling a drawer open. Inside lay sealed vials, each filled with a different ink — some tainted with Seraphin blood, others with shadow essence. I selected one, the red glinting faintly in the candlelight. “This,” I said, holding it up, “is how we bind truth to lies. Even a Lord’s gaze cannot tell the difference when the blood sings the right note.”

"The language is old—older than the common tongue we use now. But from what I can decipher, it requires a convergence of bloodlines. First Blood and Lycan, joined through the mate bond, channeling their combined power into a focal point." She turned the book so I could see the illustrations. They showed two figures—a man and a woman—standing in a circle of intricate symbols, their hands raised toward a third figure lying in the center. Light seemed to pour from the standing figures into the prone one. "The focal point," I said slowly, studying the image. "What is that?"

In the kingdom of Canal, there is a powerful family, the Pappas clan of Lina. After getting used to the ancient environment and knowing that she and Prince Alex were also the past lives of Hasan, whom she loved, and fortunately, because Prince Alex was her fiance, Lina was somewhat relieved. . But since she had seen her previous life, she had to act first. She sent the maid to bring her paper and pen, and the maid asked: “ Lady, I have never seen you draw pictures before, why do you want to draw pictures today?” “ This is my private matter, don't ask why.”

This isn't an outline, this is a full-blown drawing. “This is…” “A hobby I picked up, nothing interesting” He waves it off and my heart shreds up a little. I flip the next page and it's another drawing of me lifting a bloodied figurine high up above my head. My lips are pursed harshly and are painted a sharp shade of ruby red. My eyes are a different shade of brown, they look glazed over like I'm in some sort of bloodlust haze. There are specks of blood splattered all over my face and hands.

Yet, she looked at me with amusement, as if she wasn’t standing on the edge of something she couldn’t control. “You’re about to be a piece of art, little Evie,” I murmured, my voice thick with something unnameable. I bet she almost smiled, maybe she even did. I dipped the hand brush into the red paint and pressed it to her back, dragging slow and deliberate strokes C-curve. A heart. A love big enough to hold us both and bind us in ways deeper than flesh. Then came a thick and unyielding blue line down her stomach, a mark of permanence and ownership.

And moved down to her exposed midsection and the sheer, almost see through flimsy excuse for a skirt that covered her bottom and revealed a long expanse of bare leg. But that wasn’t even the worst of it. It was the ink on her skin that did it. Dark mass of ink designed her arms, belly, legs in swirling loops and whirls. And in the middle of her chest right between her breasts was a tattoo of the royal family crest— a lycan howling up at the moon in fierce victory. The entire design; the dress, the ink... They all symbolized one thing that she was nothing but the slave of the man standing over there, looking like he couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing.

The exhaustion from the day's troubles was too much for his hypoglycemic system. Jason fiddled away with the envelope which slipped off his quivering hands. Losing his balance, Jason dropped to the marble floor with a loud thud, and everything blacked out. *** Song: Anna of the north (Lovers) 💔💔 You told me I would never see you walk away. Said you'd never break my heart Never leave me in the dark I guess there are just some promises we shouldn't make Shoulda knew from the start I'm in the dark Show a little loving

he said In several occasions I come to you for relationship advice and you tell me to go for what I want then why are you suddenly creating a drama over an unnecessary issue. he continued I thought the lady behind the story was me. I thought you were giving me hint to know that you loved me back. she replied in tears Hint ??? love you??? not to be rude but in your dreams lady. he replied in a serious face. You know what, she said while looking at Vincent I will be back for what belong to me even if it cost my life she said while walking out

Then squeezing the life out of him. A slow painful death. ’Shut up.’ He shoots back. His wolf snickers in response but retreats to the back of his mind. Leaving utter silence in its place. Instead, his thoughts spiral. He had heard the stories of old. The prophecies that, after decades of proof of their impossibility, became old wives' tales. Stories told by bards, provoking intrigue to gain fame. But he could not deny it now. He was there that night. The night it all started. The markings on her body were proof of her paternal bloodline. That had never been up for debate.

She skimmed the text, her breath catching as she read: “The curse is tied to the bloodline. Each generation suffers the loss of their fated one, unless the bond is severed. Only the destined can break the cycle, but at great cost.” Her fingers trembled as she turned the page, revealing a sketch of a crescent moon entwined with a wolf’s silhouette. Beneath it was a single phrase: “The fated one will rise.” A floorboard creaked behind her. Lucy spun around, her heart leaping into her throat.