Blade 2 Reaper Novels & Stories

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.”

Black handle, black blade, and engraved along the spine, clean and precise, S. I hold it up and examine it. "This is my name," I say. He stares at me. "This is literally my name. It says S. S for Sadism. I'm the Grim Reaper." I turn the blade in the light. "This is clearly mine. Where's the phone?" "My brother has it." Through his teeth. "He took it. I don't have it. Stop. Touching." Each word arriving separately, with effort. "My. Tail." He makes a sound that is half fury and half something he's trying to keep below the surface, and his tail catches my wrist on the backswing.

Lyra could feel his nervousness through the mate bond, could sense how much this moment meant to him. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost. Then she remembered the cottage. The way he'd kissed Jessy. The promise of "soon." Her sympathy evaporated. The procession came into view, and it was magnificent. Guards in formation, at least twenty of them, all wearing identical black uniforms with silver accents. They moved with military precision, their faces stern and alert. Between them, banners bearing the Lycan royal crest rippled in the evening breeze. The crest was a wolf in mid-howl, surrounded by a crown of silver thorns.

The hardness in her gaze didn't dim by a little bit, and I knew she was going to say spiteful words to me, even before she uttered them. "I don't see what's taking you so long. If the Luna of the kingdom takes so long to get ready, then what will the other alphas think?" Before I could blink, or even reply, she pulled close the fan she always had in hand, before pulling a sleek blade out of it. My mouth fell open when I saw the blade hidden under the guise of a fan, an unknown weapon. I tried to say something, but her blade was coming close to my face, and a stuttered breath escaped me when she nicked at something by the side of my head.

Chapter 32 Viona POV One month later The copper tang of blood clung to the air, thick enough to taste. I adjusted my grip on the twin blades strapped to my back, sweat dripping down my spine as I moved between the rows of sparring soldiers. Three months of hiding in plain sight. Three months of silent victories and close calls. And now... now my luck has finally run out. "Vaughn, you're up next!" the commander barked.

"So you made my Beta stay in the dungeons when he's innocent" "The Luna threatened my life and she said if I didn't follow her commands she would kill me and kill herself and I had no choice" "You're an ingrate, this would serve as a warning to all of you, whoever wants to be used as a weapon against me I would know and I would come for you and your family, your integrity would be rewarded come to me dear" Alan announced as the maid approached him. Alan made her stand in front of him with her back facing him, he slit her throat immediately right in the presence of everyone, Reyna was shocked as she only watched blood but nobody.

The Oni-Brute instantly froze, its power severed, before collapsing under its own massive weight. On the right flank, Reaper used an explosive round to blind the sensory optics of the second Brute, while Sienna darted through the monster's legs, her twin Phase-Knives neatly severing the heel tether. In the center, Dax and Lena moved like a unified strike force.

Ripper hands me my guns and I take them and check them before I leave the clubhouse with Rebel and Dante behind me. I kiss them both and take Rebel’s face in my hands and look into her honey coloured eyes. “We will find who did this and they will wish for death,” I say to her, her hands placed over mine. I place my forehead against hers, closing my eyes to centre myself. “Can’t have the reaper without his Scythe.” She whispers, and I open my eyes and look into hers. She knows who I am and what I am capable of. They don’t call me Scythe for nothing. The instrument of the Reaper. The instrument of death.

A gloved hand clamped over the sentry’s mouth, muffling a choke as the blade flashed—KA-BAR, seven inches, serrated—slashing throat to spine in one clean arc. Blood sprayed hot, then slowed, the body slumping limp. Reaper eased him down, wiping the blade on the guy’s sleeve, then flashed a hand signal—one down, clear. Inside the perimeter, another agent hunched by a makeshift campfire—orange flickers licking the dark, embers popping faint. He’d been out here too long, hands rubbing raw over the heat, M16 propped lazy against a crate.

Josh immediately moved forward to stop Reaper, however, it was too late, Reaper had put the knife into use. With a desperate swing, Reaper drove the blade forward, straight into Mateo’s side. Mateo tried to step back, but it was a little too late. A gasp escaped Mateos' lips, both from shock and pain as the knife tore through his flesh.