Black Lantern Oaths Novels & Stories

For the first time since the war began, Blackthorn felt defeated, fear glimmered in their eyes, they couldn’t fight as they had been surrounded and any wrong move would have led to the death of the Alpha’s son. Helpless, the Alpha fell to his knees and offered something else instead; a blood oath that could neither be broken by time, war or love. Harttman accepted it under their own terms. The oath was sealed under the blood moon The oath state that the Blackthorn’s heir would forever be bound to Harttman’s surviving daughter and the union would be the price for peace. It said should the bond ever be broken or rejected the bloodshed would return in tenfold and finally, if the heir of Harrtma

Just as Kirou was contemplating this, he received a message from the system. [System: A is a sacred vow that uses a person's life as a guarantee. Should the person who initiates the oath lie about the contents of the oath or break the oath after making it, they will be struck down by a blood-red lightning bolt from the heavens, turning them to ash instantly. Due to this very condition, individuals would usually shy away from making such an oath when dealing with strangers as it limits their actions under the conditions of the oath while the stranger is free of any such restriction.]

"It was supposed to take my wolf, but for some reason, it didn't, but it had killed the elders." "Maybe it has to do with you being a lycan." I suggested. "Maybe," he agreed. "It feels so surreal. Axel had always been there for me, and now..." Thane left his sentence hanging; he took another gulp of the whiskey. "I have an idea." I said, taking out the white silk material, I had actually gotten this laterns for this very purpose. "What is that?" Thane asked. "They are called sky lanterns" I gave him one. "I want us to do this—not just for Axel but for every single person we lost."

They had been allies—men loyal to the crown Dante and Amara had carved out of steel and terror. The silence was broken by one of Dante’s men running forward. “Boss!” His voice cracked with urgency. He shoved a bloodied scrap of cloth into Dante’s hand. On it, scrawled in jagged crimson strokes, was a single phrase: “Blood answers blood. The oath will be fulfilled.” Dante’s fist closed around the cloth, crushing it. His veins burned. He knew exactly what it meant. “The Blood Oath,” Amara whispered, stepping closer to read the words. Her tone was almost reverent, but beneath it simmered disdain. “The ancient pact… from Lorenzo’s shattered alliances. The families swore vengeance should his line

The other must watch over the world. Lucian looked at me while holding Aaron's hand. "You said we'd deal with everything together." I said yes. But as Mother's shape faded, she whispered one last promise: The Oath will always be there. As dawn broke through the dark sky, I thought: If fate calls for another offering... Who will be with me when the next vow comes up? "You think I’m afraid of the truth? I’ve lived in the dark for too long. Your lies don’t scare me anymore."

Dawn broke with amber light washing across the sanctuary’s weathered stones. Though it had only been one day since Arla-Rosa walked the Flamebridge, the sanctuary already felt different, alive, like a resting beast roused from slumber. Deep within the sanctum, Neris and Joren led Arla-Rosa, Cedric, and the twins into a hidden chamber known as the Oath Hollow. It had once been used for solemn pacts between the Saphiren leaders and their most trusted kin. Here, beneath a canopy of arching crystal vines and a celestial skylight carved into the mountain itself, the loyalists would perform the Rite of Reclamation.

Rhys: “These are staged. Runic fragments planted—to make it look like our wards were corrupted. They targeted a cub with fire.” Gasps. Hannah, echoing him: Hannah: “They want to break us. We answer with healing.” Hannah: “Let tonight be a lantern vigil—for the cub, for forgiveness, for our shared destiny.” That night, the sanctuary gathered again. Lanterns formed a ring with youth at front—wolves, bears, riverfolk children. Each held a colored ribbon: white for forgiveness, gold for trust, green for renewal. Hannah stepped forward, torch raised.

When I finally got to page 312, the text looked dense and unsettling. < “The Darkhens hold blood oaths above all else. Betrayal is met with relentless fury. In 1887, Alpha Draco Darkhen bound his pack to a covenant with the Coven of the East Wood. The witches, though they eventually delivered the agreed harvest of moonflowers and spell components, were nine days late. Draco, whose pride would not allow delay, led his wolves in a massacre that left no witch alive. Complete annihilation was deemed necessary to preserve the sanctity of the oath.” > My fingers trembled over the paper. Nine days late, yet every witch was slaughtered. I closed my eyes and pictured the horror, the smoke rising bene