Altar Blood Magic Novels & Stories

“Lux tenebris involvunt proponit eamque ad nativam nisi me. Lux tenebris involvunt proponit eamque ad nativam nisi me.” Alaric moves to grab her: “Willow no, it will kill you!” Her other hand moves, holding Alaric back with magic as she keeps going with the spell for Marcel, whose screams become tangled and broken as his body slowly becomes lifeless and crumples to the floor. The field is silent, a stark contrast to the audible pain of just a few seconds ago. Alaric looks at Willow, his eyes wide, half with shock and half terror. How is she still alive?

Aria was about to shriek her ear-piercing scream again but was immediately silence when Xera quickly materialize another set of solid ice chain and lock her mouth. "Aria has been captured," Helen informed, "it's all up to you, dear." Helen and Mayari are a mile away from Aria but enough for Mayari to perform her blood magic. Helen then created a platform of floating ice below their feet, and Mayari instantly let go of her teacher and stepped right away to the solid surface. Forwarding both of her gloved hands once more, she concentrated. A deep crimson light glowed around her palm and soon sorrounded her with red fireflies.

I say to her. She looks at Alpha Mayhem approaching us fast. She places a stone in my hand. "You will need this when we find Fallon. This will bring her back to you. It will take more than tea. It is my life force and my magic. When we find her, they will have started draining her magic. Do you know what will happen to a witch after their magic is drained?" Mother Anges asks me.

He nearly gagged at the stench. Still, there were no sounds indicating that there was anybody down there. Could Alaric really have left his layer unoccupied while they fought the wolves above the ground? Alaric uses a lot of dark magic; that’s his main source of strength and power. Which means, he must have some sort of power source. Or something that can defeat him. A normal wolf wasn’t going to be able to defeat Alaric; something else had to do the job. Caleb knew whatever it was, Alaric would be keeping it close to him. He would be keeping it in his layer.

The magic of the forrest kept this garden and all who occupied it. “Now we have a mama to find. My friends will be with us and I will be with you. I cannot let you bite me but I can give you a vile of my mamas blood that you can drink. It’s old but it will be sufficient for your scrying.” Opening the door she walked to the cupboard and knocked three times. Glowing light surrounded the doors and then she opened them. Inside now were bottles and elixirs, potions and medicines, tinctures and other items for making them. From the back of the space she pulled a small black box out of what seemed like solid wood. Inside this box, there were viles of blood. She selected the one in the center and cl

Yet within that silence, he found something powerful: whispers. Not the whispers of men, but echoes that clung to books too ancient for sunlight. Volumes that shouldn’t exist anymore. Manuscripts bound in dark red leather, inked in languages older than the cathedral itself. At first, Arthur ignored them. Focused on restoring old texts, cataloguing records, organizing theological archives. But one book changed everything—"Sanguis Altarum." The Blood of Altars. He found it hidden behind a false panel, sealed with wax and scripture. The moment he touched it, something inside him snapped awake. Visions plagued his dreams afterward. An altar surrounded by shadows. A woman with Isabella’s eyes scr

"The victims' blood was drained almost completely—only residual traces left in the tissue. But those traces show magical contamination. Specifically, shadow magic mixed with something I can't identify." "Shadow magic? That's vampire territory, isn't it?" "Usually. But vampires don't do blood magic—they consume it directly. This is something else. Something that uses shadow as a medium but isn't inherently vampiric." Amara pulls up another image. "The unidentified component in the blood—it's not from this world. The molecular structure is wrong, the energy signature is alien. Whatever touched this blood came from somewhere else." "The demon," Hope realizes. "The summoning is already partially

The further I got from the Blood Well, the more the forest opened into barren land—the forbidden territory where old magic ran wild and the soil reeked of dead witches. This was where the ritual had to begin. I reached the center—the cracked altar built from the bones of ancient wolves. Everything around me pulsed with forgotten power. The wind twisted unnaturally. The sky above swirled in sick, harsh colors. Perfect. I held up the vial, trembling as Charlotte’s blood glowed brighter. I uncorked it, letting the scent spill into the air. “My turn,” I whispered, lifting the vial over the altar. The moment the first drop hit the stone, the land screamed.

Blood was pooling in her palm. But the plenty blood wasn't even the problem. The problem was the scent. Zara's blood didn't smell like iron and copper, like human blood. It smelled... sweet. Like vanilla and ozone. Like pure, concentrated magic. It was the scent of the White Wolf, the healer, the divine. If Alex should smell it, he would know what she is. So Zara immediately panicked. She shoved her bleeding hand against his chest, specifically, against his expensive white shirt, trying to take his attention away from her bleeding hand.

BAM! The shockwave from their physical impact blew up the teak furniture in half the room. Alexander blocked Valerius' pure silver magic coated fist with just one of his empty palms. The muscles on The King's arms bulged tensely, revealing his rune tattoos which now glowed golden against the corrosion of ancestral magic. "You rely on muscles, brat!" Valerius laughed hoarsely, releasing blood magic from his palm that began to burn the skin of Alexander's arm. "My pure blood is the magic of the universe itself. You cannot kill what has lived a thousand years underground!"