Bathory Blood On Ice Novels & Stories

While turning a human was done from biting on the wrist of the human. If the moon goddess approves of the mating mark, syncing can be done successfully. And if she doesn't approve of it, it would be just as a random wolf's bite. I drew my claws out, slitting my wrist open. I fed her my blood. The blood of an Original. The most sacred blood. I wasn't surprised when we actually synced, if anything at all, I was scared. Scared to be gifted a mate at this point of my life where the only thing I seeked for was revenge.

But roasted meat could only get me so far. There was a door in the kitchen, and a peep through the window told me that it was the backyard. I went out and the night's cold breeze did something to calm my nerves. Marcello was right, this place linked into a thick forest. And with my enhanced sight and hearing, I sensed bats from close by trees. Those were going to have to do for the night. I ran with a desperation that I could not suppress. And before I knew it, my fangs were deep in a bat. I moaned as the metallic state of blood filled my mouth, sucking it in for my dear life.

Beside him, Lady Anya’s eyes widened behind her mask, filled with awe. The atmosphere within the cavern grew thick with tension and wonder. The crystalline walls began to hum softly, reflecting the growing brilliance of the Heart of Ice, which now pulsed brighter, responding to the blood of its long-lost descendant. When Rayden was only a few steps from the platform before the relic, the resonance reached its peak. The Heart of Ice, once gently pulsing, now thundered with life. Its deep rhythmic beat echoing like a primordial war drum struck from the heart of the world. Its pale-blue glow intensified, flooding the entire cavern in a sacred brilliance.

Only when the blood courts gathered and the Night itself leaned closer to listen. The air grew heavier as they descended. Torches lined the steps carved deep into the earth, their flames tinted violet and silver, colors that didn’t exist in daylight. Smoke curled upward in slow, deliberate spirals, thick with incense and iron-sweet undertones, like offerings made visible. Music drifted through the air — slow, rhythmic, woven with a heartbeat cadence that Selene felt echo against her ribs, matching her pulse until she wasn’t sure which was leading anymore.

“Give us control so we can shape our destiny. Bind those who carry Mikhail’s blood to him, so that they must complete his every whim. Let them be mindless tools of power, forcing our enemies to cower. With these words, I submit my plea. As I will, so mote it be.” The pool of blood on the ground bubbled and turned black. Thin lines of it snaked out along the ground, splitting and multiplying as they sought out each of the hybrids in the army surrounding us. One thin line crept up my boot, swirling and tightening around my leg as it traveled upward. Tendrils of black did the same to every body they touched. It rose, sliding over my clothes, circling my torso, traveling higher and higher until

“Blood, Word, Breath. Break any and the stair erases your ascent.” Taren swallowed. “What happens if the stair erases us?” “You forget up,” the figure said, almost kindly. “Some prefer that.” They descended. ⸻ The chamber of Blood was small, round, plain. A bowl cut into the floor collected melt from the ceiling in slow, patient drops. A wafer of ice rested on a plinth beside it. Three channels had been carved there: two whole, one shallow. Kaelira’s wolf paced. Teeth and ritual, Ardyn said, unimpressed. Pick one.

I stood upright despite my trembling legs, gasping for breath. The sorcerer moved closer. With a swift motion, he created a long ice blade glowing with an icy blue light in his hand. The blade shot forward and carved a deep diagonal slash across my chest. The pain was unbearable. I staggered backwards, pressing a hand against the wound. My blood poured freely, dripping onto the stone floor. But then something strange happened. The blood that touched the ice blade suddenly ignited. Not ordinary fire—this fire was black, yet hotter than any normal flame.

Rona yelled frustratedly. "But this vessel helped me by willingly surrendering herself. I have to do a favor for her as a thank you. So I have to kill you" The voice sounded so deep and dark as though the magic blood was the devil itself. Without a moment's hesitation, the magic blood descended upon her, unleashing its relentless fury upon Rona's defenseless figure. Rona's body contorted in anguish, blood streaming from every wound the blood inflicted upon her. The more blood that seeped out from her, the more the magic blood laughed out hysterically. Its laugh was just as dark as its face. The room resonated with Rona's anguished cries, each agonized scream carving deeper wounds into my sou

For some reason, this feels a whole lot like a goodbye. The demon slowly descended from her throne, her movements soundless and smooth, her smile only growing wider as she languidly stretched her hand out in front of her… and before their very eyes, out of thin air, right from the gathering shadows itself, a sword–the Royal family's sword to be exact–was suddenly pulled forth from the depths of the darkness, Bellona’s blade was gleaming wickedly against the moonlight, still stained with fresh, dripping blood. Sir Hans Bathory had barely pulled his own sword out from the fallen body of one of her many beasts, listening to it grind against something as he pulled it free when he saw this happen

Melinda ran a finger along the line and named them, steady, like an incantation at the edge of noise: “Dragon blood, the raw power, to bind the brute energy the tear bleeds. Phoenix blood, the rebirth so the seal can mend if it frays. Unicorn blood, its purity to cleanse the corruption. Basilisk blood, A poison to turn anything escaping into ash. Kraken blood, an abyssal strength to anchor us to the depths. Griffin blood, vigilance, watchfulness for the long centuries. Chimera blood, the hybrid coin that traps chaos by uniting it. Werewolf blood, it cycles and changes, to tether time to the seal. Vampire blood, an immortal blood, for endurance.” A deep, ancient red, almost black, that swallo