Batman Bloodline Novels & Stories

In the centre stood a low altar carved from a single piece of black granite and on it rested a shallow silver bowl filled with dark water. “This is where the Bloodline Rite was first performed,” she said and rested her fingers on the edge of the altar. “It was never about crowning a queen. It was created to bind unstable bloodlines, to steady heirs born from two rival packs so the child could not be weaponised by either side.” She met my eyes.

"That is the mark of Audrey’s witch coven. They are testing you, sending visions to see if your blood reacts like the ancient texts say." I looked between the two brothers. "Why does she hate me so much? I didn't ask for any of this." "It's not about hate, Betty," Adriel said softly. "It's about your bloodline." "What about her bloodline?" the King demanded, stepping closer as Mitchell refused to let go of my hand. "My parents told me before they died," I whispered, the weight of the secret pressing heavily on my chest. "My blood comes from two lost royal kingdoms. I am the last female warrior of the Blaze and Knight lineages."

“I saw it in a vision. I read it in old books. And the mark on her neck—only those with Thane blood have it.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “That bloodline was thought to be extinct. They were wiped out.” “I know,” I said. “But Selene survived. She was just a baby. Her parents died, but a human family took her in.” Dante was quiet for a while. He looked out at the trees. Then he said, “That bloodline is dangerous.” I looked at him. “She’s not dangerous.” He turned to face me. “We can’t say for sure. If anyone knows, war could break out.”

“I’m not talking in riddles. If you just shut up and listened, you’ll know!” Eon glared at his father. His wolf wanted to reach for him and grabbed his neck, and yet, he couldn't. He’s still his Alpha after all. “If you would just tell me what you want to say instead of talking around circles, you would be on your way now.” He replied in disdain. “Lina Baptiste is a she-wolf. The enigmatic bloodline of the Baptiste. The only bloodline that was blessed to be a guardian. There was a war that happened in the past that made their bloodline almost extinct as a punishment from the moon goddess, Selene.”

"Tell me. How much do you know of my history with your bloodline Cassandra?" I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. This line of dialog was starting to get old. "I'll tell you what I've told everyone else that has asked me that question lately. Not much. I descended from an ancient bloodline of Royal Lycans created by the moon goddess to protect the Werewolves and to fight, well, you. That's all I have got. No more. No less." He seemed satisfied with my answer, because he didn't waste much time before he spoke again. "As I expected." He said, lightly knodding his head.

And what my calculations tell me is that we are all going to die. The baby is destabilizing because the ritual forced incompatible bloodlines into a single vessel. That's the truth no one will speak aloud. Jessica's Blackthorn blood, my Lancaster blood, they were never meant to merge. We're cousins, distant enough to avoid the worst genetic consequences, but close enough that our combined lineage carries echoes of the same source. The ritual didn't just claim Ronan as the father. It overwrote large sections of the child's magical signature with his essence, his power, his claim.

“I was told to destroy this journal. I refused. Too many lives have been lost because the truth was buried.” My fingers tightened around the edge of the page. Whoever had written this had been afraid. I continued. “The First Blood Heir is not simply an heir to a throne. The child carries blood from two ancient Alpha lines. One line belongs to Blackthorn. The other belongs to a bloodline that the elders believed had disappeared.” I stopped. Blackthorn. Ronan's pack. My heart began beating faster. I read the sentence again. Two Alpha bloodlines. I thought about the portrait.

Five people around a table being professionally thorough about a catastrophe that is, at its origin, a catastrophe of professional thoroughness. The Vein is explained to the room by Emre, which is how Sebastien has mentally named the man in the corner chair, because that's the name he signed the registration form with when the Folklore network confirmed he'd agreed to come. He explains it with the brisk clarity of someone who has explained it before, who knows which details are important and which are rabbit holes. The five bloodlines. The resonance architecture. The conduit function. The degradation timeline. He is selective here too, Sebastien can feel it, the specific quality of someone m

“Now.” In the living room Damian had pulled out a whiteboard. Like this was some kind of war room. “Obasi wants the company,” Damian said. “He swapped babies twenty-eight years ago. Me and… someone else.” Marcus went completely still. “DNA test tomorrow,” Damian continued. “All of us. And the baby when it’s born.” Zara’s stomach flipped. “You think—” “I think Obasi wouldn’t be this desperate unless the bloodline was wrong,” Damian said.

“The power is only a symptom.” The confusion on my face must have been obvious because she continued before I could interrupt. “The Bloodline is a living inheritance. A piece of something much older than wolves, older than the packs, older than the council itself.” A chill crawled down my spine. “Older than the Moon Goddess?” For the first time, Selene reacted. Her eyes narrowed slightly. My mother shook her head. “No.” The answer relieved me. A little. “Then what is it?” My mother hesitated.