Blade 2 Reaper Novels & Stories

The man had finally managed to produce a child and he wanted me to stand in a hall and applaud. "Small man," I said. "Large occasion." Gary said nothing. That was the correct response. My throne had been built on the bodies of my father and my brothers, taken in the year I turned twenty-four, held through five years of war that hadn't fully ended. I had killed more men than I could name. The packs called me The Reaper and stayed out of my borders and prayed their treaties held. The elders said Moon Godness herself had cursed me, no fated mate, no heir, no future beyond the violence I was good at.

Two more threw themselves at his flanks even as he tore through them, fighting back viciously as blood flew around them in thick arcs. Rey didn’t think before she threw herself into the chaos, double blades raised in each hand. A raw snarl ripped from her throat as she crashed into the nearest hunter, her blades flashing with deadly purpose. One blade buried in its spine. The other sliced upward, taking its head clean off. She spun fluidly across the snow, cutting them down one by one, stabbing into flesh and hacking heads off until they were nothing but big mangled chunks of flesh lying by her feet. Every cut of her blade burnt through the hunters’ flesh, leaving deep, smoking wounds that r

Julius and I stepped closer without thinking, drawn by the sudden shift in his face. Close enough to read it with him. “Your data on the phone has been recovered. You can come over now if you’re free.” — Data Recovery Specialist. Blade stared at the screen, then looked up at us, eyes red and tired. “I guess… it’s finally time,” Blade said quietly, his voice no longer shaking with denial but heavy with acceptance. “Time I stand with my brothers and face this monster.” He looked up at us, eyes still red but clearer now.

Vega returned, trailed by a bald brute built like a tank, a knife gleaming in his meaty hand. “Comfortable?” Vega asked, mockingly polite. I smirked. “You won’t be when he gets here.” His smile flickered. The bald guy stepped closer, dragging the flat of the blade along my jaw. I didn’t flinch. “Cocky,” he growled, gripping my chin, forcing my head back. “He’s no savior,” I murmured, locking eyes with him. “He’s a fucking reaper.”

“We… we have to kill him. Mother can help him if he’s in her palace.” I groan and stand up, trying to catch my breath. In the distance, I hear Reaper howl. He’s close, but not close enough. Obsidian rushes at me again. I hold my sword with both hands, letting the blade cross my body. It’s a dangerous move. If he’s able to hit the sword, it could bury itself into my chest. When he’s inches away, I let the silver blade dig into the front of his shoulder. He stumbles to the side with a painful yelp. I feel blood dripping where his claws tried to tear me open.

A relic gleamed in her grip—a dagger wrought from moonstone and obsidian, its blade etched with runes that glowed like living fire. Elias’s eyes widened. “That’s—” “The Crescent Fang,” Rhea finished. “Forged by the council. A blade made to kill what should never have been born.” Her gaze locked on Serena, and for the first time, Rhea’s face softened with sorrow. “Forgive me.” --- The attack came like lightning. Rhea moved faster than any wolf Serena had ever seen, the blade slicing across the altar. Serena barely leapt back in time, but the dagger still grazed her arm. Pain exploded, burning like molten silver, searing into her veins.

he murmurs. Rolling my eyes I cross my arms leaning back in my chair, “care to share with the class?” He presses his palms together and asks, “son, have you ever heard of the Reapers?” I frown, “No. What is a Reaper?” He leans over, “so when you die, the Reaper is the one who severs your bond from this world that lets you move onto the next. For us back to the Moon Goddess. They are curious beings and only those who have seen traumatic death can see them. I’m sure there is one in our pack right now, waiting for someone to die. They are nearly untraceable and hold no allegiances to anyone but their task. Sever the bond, let the soul move on.”

"Fine. You want to see who owns the space? I’ll show you." I grabbed the black gesso and a thick palette knife. I smeared a jagged, dark silhouette right down the center of the cap—the unmistakable, hooded curve of a Reaper’s scythe. It was messy, raw, and looked like it had been carved out of the night. Then, before the black could even dry, I snatched the tweezers from Jax’s hand. I began pressing the delicate, shimmering gold leaf directly over the top of the scythe, forming a sharp, intricate crown that sat atop the Reaper’s hood.

With a flick of his wrist, the white blade batted Jax's heavy weapon aside as if it weighed nothing, the impact sending a bone-rattling shockwave up Jax's arms that forced him to his knees. "He's too fast!" Reaper yelled, firing three explosive rounds. The Shogun raised his free hand. A localized, magenta repulsor-shield flared, catching the sniper rounds in mid-air and harmlessly dropping them to the obsidian floor. "If he's moving that fast, he has to follow a physical trajectory!" Lena's voice cracked over the comms.