Blood Altar Blood Magic Novels & Stories

The ground was covered in soft moss, and in the center stood a smooth stone altar, weathered by time. Karl gestured for her to sit on the stone. “Close your eyes and focus on the moonlight,” he instructed. Lucy obeyed, though doubt clawed at her. The night was eerily silent, save for the occasional rustle of leaves. “Breathe deeply,” Karl said, his voice steady. “Let the energy of the Blood Moon guide you.” At first, nothing happened. Lucy’s mind wandered, her thoughts a chaotic swirl of frustration and fear. But then, a strange warmth spread through her chest. It wasn’t pleasant—it burned, searing through her veins like liquid fire.

I let the blood drip into it, watching the jar fill halfway before I pulled back, willing my Alpha genes to let the cut start to knit itself closed. Allen sealed the jar, then reached for the runestone that he had trapped the black mist in. He carefully brought the runestone close to the jar of my blood, close enough that the glass almost touched. Suddenly, my blood began to move, and tiny black tendrils sprouted from my blood, writhing and clawing toward the corrupted magic. The sight made my stomach lurch. “What the actual hell,” I muttered. Allen didn’t look surprised. “Seems I was right,” he said grimly. “Your blood knows it.”

Suddenly, she had a cold and exciting idea. ‘Hehehe…’ Just then, Alex sent out a few seals with his hands to the blood talismans on the ground. Moreover, large amounts of blood flowed down from the grimstone while the flesh slid to the other side. This blood was able to help them open the altar entirely. Roar— “Seiryuu, three steps to the left!” “Byakko, four steps to the right!”

She asked as she propped herself up on a barstool infront of the stove top. "It's actually relatively simple when I think about all the different spells I've casted in my lifetimes. We need your blood, my blood, Prince Bryan's blood, Chris's ashes, peppermint, roses, and sea salt. My blood will work as an amplifier for the magic and work with yours to seal the spell into the house. Your blood will allow those of us who live here to share in your gift, Prince Bryan's blood will allow us to see the spirit that is connected to his soul, Chris's Ashes will allow us to see Chris's spirit. I don't need to tell you what the roses, peppermint and sea salt are for too, right?" I explained then asked

Every time I tried to close my eyes, another link would break, another innocent life lost. I couldn’t bring myself to leave Ruby’s side. Somehow, my little princess is hanging on despite this dark magic flowing through her veins, but how much longer can she hang on? Archie had to drag me out of her room so we could have this fucking meeting. What’s there to meet about? My pack is dying and there’s nothing I can do. “What the fuck kind of magic is it?” Dare demands, looking like he’s ready to go to war. “Yaya said it’s blood magic. Some kind of potion, or poison, her brother created. But she doesn’t believe he would use this kind of magic willingly,” Archie says defensively.

The guests were too mesmerized by my ring bearer to even notice what was going on on the altar. “Lola, what’s going on? I don’t understand.” “Of course, you don’t. When have you ever understood anything other than sticking your penis into holes?” And right there, by the altar, she took both rings from Kaleb and dumped them on my hand. The ring box had a paper under but that wasn’t my priority now. “Have a wonderful day with your family instead.” She said and took off. It was then that the guests noticed what was going on.

He was going to use his veto, destroy the Council's trap, and take the violent consequences head-on. We marched back out into the suffocating fog of the courtyard. The arena was packed now. Hundreds of Alpha’s stood in massive, silent blocks, watching as the other students from the other packs stepped up to the black altar one by one, slicing their palms, and letting their dark crimson blood spill onto the stone. Each time, the altar hummed, absorbing the blood and feeding the faint, translucent purple barrier brighter and shining high above the walls that surrounded us. Names rolled out until it got to mine.

Her breathing hitched again, and my heart slammed violently in response. Think. Think, Dalton. The altar is ancient. The symbols are old. This is ritual magic. Blood magic. Blood. The word echoed in my mind, and suddenly… clear as if she stood beside me, a familiar voice whispered into my ear. ‘Use your blood.’ My body went rigid. That voice. The Priestess. I would recognize that calm, unwavering tone anywhere. For a split second, doubt flickered. Was it a memory? A trick of the altar? Another manipulation?

That was the exact torment I’d been enduring for the past month. “It’s ‘Blood Withdrawal’,” Elder Alaric explained. “A guardian’s sacred blood, especially Alaina’s, after a hundred years of blood pacts with you, has resonated with your soul and magic. It soothes your rage, purifies your power. Now that she has severed that source, your body and soul are paying the price for your century of ‘taking’.” "It will torture you for the rest of your eternal life," Elder Alaric finished, his voice grim. "A constant reminder... of what you threw away.”

“We’ll be using blood magic for this. It’s the only way to create a tether strong enough to pull the veil back and connect you to someone in real time.” She turned to me and handed me a small, curved blade—silver, polished, the handle wrapped in red velvet. It was warm in my hand. “You need to place three drops of your blood on each point of the pentagram,” she instructed. “Only yours. This has to be your connection.” I hesitated, not from fear, but from the weight of what I was about to do. Then I nodded, pressing the knife gently to the pad of my thumb. The cut was shallow, clean.