Blade And Dan Heng Novels & Stories

She came to kill him. He was supposed to be her enemy. But the bond they built on lies might be the only real thing either of them has ever had. Zara Merrick has one mission: seduce the Alpha who murdered her sister, earn his trust, and drive a silver blade through his heart. She endures an agonizing ritual that rewires her very biology — altering her scent, implanting false recognition signals, creating an artificial mate bond designed to make the most powerful Alpha in the region believe she is his fated one. She walks into his territory like a weapon wearing a woman's face, and it works perfectly. Ryker Bloodmoon falls for it completely. Or so she thinks. Because Ryker has secrets too — secrets about the night Mia Merrick died, about what her sister really was, and about the truth The Covenant has been hiding from Zara for five years. And when his Beta runs her blood and the lie unravels, Ryker doesn't kill her. He keeps her. Now Zara is a prisoner in the fortress she came to destroy, hunted by the organization that sent her, and haunted by the possibility that everything she believed about her sister — about werewolves, about the war she dedicated her life to — was a carefully constructed lie. Worse, the fake mate bond is dissolving. And what's replacing it feels terrifyingly real.

Having a perfect mate is obviously the greatest wish of every werewolf,but what becomes the outcome when you receive the direct opposite of such wish and fantasies. Damien Dark, the young Alpha prince of the red blood pack,in search of his mate inorder to attain the role of the pack's alpha right after his father's death. Fate plays an expensive trick of hers, mating prince Damien alongside Kara Dugan, immediate daughter to Kyle Dugan,leader of the black eagles werewolf Hunter clan. A hunter clan popularly known for their brutality and hatred towards werewolves. Hundreds of werewolf packs has fallen and gone extinct by their toxin blade's and so has the red blood pack earn countless attacks, losses and destruction from this clan, creating a formidable and everlasting hatred between both pack's and clan. Will Damien and Kara both accept their persuasive inner mate bonds, setting aside the long emminity harboured between both clans?. With both clans and packs permit their love, setting aside their historical hatred?. Also what becomes Kara's fate when her long hidden secret relating one of red bloods greatest loss gets unveiled. Will both lovers bond remain firm or brew up more wars and heightened hatred between both clans?. Will Damien result to killing her to please his pack or follow his instincts? With they both conquer such obstacle alongside thousands more?. Find out?

Seven years ago, I ignored my girlfriend's heart-wrenching pleas and ruthlessly severed our relationship. Now, after seven long years, she had risen to the top—and she was back, ready for her wedding. She didn't come home for mere celebration, though. She came for revenge. She obliterated the company my father had spent his entire life building and did not stop until she shattered his leg, forcing him to endure unimaginable pain. It was all so I'd be forced to go to her wedding and beg for forgiveness. But that wasn't enough. She wanted more. She hissed, brandishing a blade, "If Matthew's not here in ten minutes, I'll slice off a finger for every minute he's late." My autistic brother's fingers, the only way he could create art, became a bargaining chip in her sadistic game. Dad's anguished cries filled the air as he pleaded for mercy, but she was not done. She wanted to tear my family apart piece by piece. My mom, fragile and trapped in the haze of Alzheimer's, was next. Her mind, already slipping, crumbled under the relentless torment. She cracked, completely lost to the madness. With tears streaming down his face, Dad said, "My son died the day you left for abroad."

"S-stay away from me." She stammered while moving her steps backward just to hit the edge of the table. "Why would I do that?" He placed his hands on her either side surrounding her in his woody scent. She couldn't help but took a deep breath. "It's my p-personal space." She turned her face towards the bookshelf beside the table as he leaned his face closer. "Hmm..." He hummed as her whole body shuddered when he started tracing her jugular vein with his nose. Her mouth was dry as the aura of his scent was gone and fear conquered her body. "You are my personal thing too." He groaned jerking her towards him by her waist. "L-lea..." Her lips couldn't form the words as he captured her soft lips in a swift. ←→ Ara Smith, daughter of a priest, drowned in innocence. She is a 19 years old girl with a cheeky smile but she didn't get the chance to smile much after her father's death. ‹› Gareth Blade, a 31 years old mafia billionaire is another name for a nightmare. No one dares to match his stoned gaze that reflects his stoned heart. He can own the things that ever attracts his eyes but this time his eyes didn't fall on something but someone.

I was sent to evaluate him. Now, he’s the one judging my soul. As a psychologist for the Pacific Behavioral Unit, I deal with the most dangerous shifters in the Territories. But Mason Cross isn’t just a prisoner. He’s the King of the West Coast, a lethal Alpha with emerald eyes that don’t just look at me—they strip me bare. One mistake in a silver-lined cell, and I’m no longer the doctor. I’m the prey. When a night at the Velvet Moon turns into a bloodbath, Mason doesn't just save me—he claims me. He hauls me to his brutalist fortress on the cliffs, a world of glass, salt, and ancient wolf laws. He says he’s protecting me from the Lunar Syndicate. He says I’m his prisoner for my own safety. But as his hands find the curve of my waist and his teeth graze the pulse point of my throat, I realize the "Mask of Civility" is slipping. Behind the tailored suits and the CEO title is a beast that hasn't fed in a long time. I have a silver blade in my stays and a secret in my blood that could burn the Territories to the ground. But when the moon rises over the Cross Estate, I don’t want to run. I want to see if the King of the Ferals bites as hard as he barks. High stakes. Raw instinct. A love that draws blood.

Just because his first love's younger brother accidentally fell into Shadow River, my Alpha mate, Ethan Horn, forced me, the only Spirit Soother of our pack, to go and rescue him. When I sank to the bottom of the river, I chose not to save him. When the man was pulled out of the river, the healer lamented, "If it were a few minutes earlier, Leo might have been saved. What a pity." Ethan's first love, Serafina Pike, had her wolf soul shut off and soon passed away because she missed her younger brother, Leo Pike. From that moment on, Ethan, who had once loved me, hated me to the core. Without giving me a chance to explain, he slit my throat with a silver blade and ruthlessly sealed my wolf soul. Later, he believed the heresy of the witch about soul sacrifice and nailed me and our young daughter in coffins before burying us alive by Shadow River as sacrifices to resurrect his beloved Serafina. In the end, the woman he deeply loved did not come back to life, and my daughter and I died with endless resentment. When I reopened my eyes, I had returned to the night when Ethan forced me to jump into the river to save Leo. I tied up the specially made rope and asked him for the last time, "Are you really sure that you can bear the consequences after I rescue him?"

As the news broadcast reported a random serial killing near my residential complex, I knew—I had been reborn once again. In my first life, my husband insisted on going out in the middle of a snowstorm to buy weapons for self-defense. I locked every door and window, waiting at home, anxiety clawing at my chest. I never imagined the killer could pick locks. Before I could even react, a blade plunged into me, and I died on the couch. In my second life, I didn't hesitate. I hid in a concealed storage room, holding my breath. But the door was still pulled open. A man wearing a rabbit mask stared straight at me. "Found you," he said. In my third life, I ran to the police station. I rushed inside and told the officer on duty that the killings weren't random—that the murderer was coming for me. They looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Then my husband arrived in a hurry and took me away. But the moment we reached our front door, a heavy hammer smashed into the back of my head. Through the blinding pain, I forced my eyes open, but I never saw who killed me. Now, staring at the grave expression on the news anchor's face, agony surged through every inch of my body. Rebirth isn't a reset. The damage accumulates—and sooner or later, it will torture me to death. Without hesitation, I walked into the kitchen and set a pot of oil to heat. And I waited… for the moment the lock began to turn.

I was born a liar. That was the label my mother gave me. In the Dark Moon Pack, every pup carries a Lunar Mark on their wrist. Green means truth. Red means liar. My twin sister Maya slashed Mommy's ceremonial dress with a blade and blamed the pack hounds. Her wrist stayed soft and green. My mark went crimson when I said I was cold. "Mommy, I'm telling the truth. Please believe me." Elena would crouch down, look me in the eye, and say the same thing every time. "The Goddess's mark is absolute, Selena. Your own heart betrays you." She never touched me. She just looked at my wrist with disgust. No matter how honest I tried to be, my heart would race when I was scared. And every time my pulse spiked, the mark turned red. I lied when I said I was hungry. I lied when I said I loved her. I lied when I cried. After enough years, I stopped fighting back. I started to believe her. Maybe I really was broken. Maybe I was just born wrong. The night I died, I wrote one last line in my Penance Journal. "Mommy, help me. It hurts. Please — just believe me once." She never saw it. She had already locked the door and walked away. I'm sorry, Mommy. I died still trying to get it right. In my next life — will you hold me?

“You’re nothing but a slut who crawled into my bed for money—worth less than braille to me.” Nich’s voice was flat, cold, and utterly void of emotion, every word a sharp blade straight to my heart. “N… Nich!” I clung to him from behind, desperate to believe he didn’t mean it—only for him to pry my arms away and shove me aside roughly. “You’re a whore… the most disgusting woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” The slap cracked against my cheek, hard and stinging. Alongside it, he tossed a cheque—half a million pesos—right at my feet. “Get out of my life. Don’t ever let me see your face again.” A bitter, broken laugh bubbled up my throat. I tore the cheque into tiny pieces without a second thought. Tears streamed down my face, but I forced a sharp, unyielding smile. “Fine. I’m leaving. Keep your money. You think as a big-shot CEO you can buy anything you want? You’re wrong. My dignity isn’t for sale—not to a fool, and certainly not to a man as blind and stupid as you.” “From this moment on… we never knew each other.” Every beat of my heart felt like it was being pierced by a thousand needles. I once hoped there was goodness even among the wealthy—but I was wrong. Today I learned the cruel truth: for people like him, money is the only law, and wealth is the only justice that matters.

When I was seven, Victor Medici took me off the streets of Brooklyn. From that moment on, I became a blade hidden in the shadows of the Medici family. The Medici family was one of the five major mafia families in New York City, and Victor was the family’s Don. By fifteen, I had learned how to handle a gun and a knife. I could carry out the family’s “clean-up” orders with precision. By eighteen, I led a team that wiped out three weapons hubs belonging to the rival Rina mafia family, securing the East Side territory for Victor. At twenty-one, during a hearing, I took the fall for Victor’s crimes. In the end, I was sentenced to three years in prison. The day I got out, he took me straight to Las Vegas to get married. With his own hands, he slipped a ruby ring onto my finger—a symbol of the Donna. Under the witness’s gaze, he kissed me, his voice almost reverent. “Rachel, I love you. You’re my only weakness.” Then, he pulled out a stamped and signed contract from his suit pocket. “This is my wedding gift to you. If I ever betray you, my power, my status, and my wealth will be transferred into your name, and I’ll walk away with nothing.” After a pause, he gave a sly smile and added, “But that day will never come. Because I’ll always love you.” I took the contract, so happy that I felt like I might cry, but that happiness only lasted two years.