Novelas y relatos de Blood And Butterflies

“That sounds… dangerous.” “He saved me.” “Maybe. But people who can do that kind of thing so easily… they usually aren’t just nice strangers.” I rubbed my face. “I know.” “Promise me you’ll be careful.” “I will.” But even as I said it, I knew it was a lie. Because the second I closed my eyes that night, all I could see was Dmitri—blood on his knuckles, eyes like winter, voice low and rough when he said my name. And I wasn’t scared.

Nibbling and grazing the golden neck. "Then.. Don’t. Now that I can’t, but if I could I would love to die in your arms" . Callum said, losing himself in Stephen’s arms. The moon was at its peak. Full Blue moon like Stephen eyes that had turned red. He placed his lips on the pulsing vein before barring his teeth. Callum felt a sting and then all he could feel was a frenzy, a euphoria. He now knew why Stephen felt excited offering him his blood.

He only saw the bird finally accepting its cage. “We’ll leave on Monday,” he said. “It will be the event of the season, Lisa. I promise you.” He led me toward the stairs, his hand resting possessively on the small of my back. I walked beside him, a ghost in a silk slip, carrying the secret of our blood like a concealed weapon. Toby was coming back. Arthur Vance was waiting in the shadows. And Elaine was waiting with her marble foyer. But none of them knew the real game. None of them knew that the Little Bird had found the key to the cage, and she was going to use it to burn the whole forest down.

But I just could not help it any longer, being face to face with a wolf had everything flooding into my brain, and I wanted to scream my lungs out. Blood. It was blood that I saw. My parents' blood, spilled on the wooden floor around their heads. I saw their lifeless eyes and still bodies, and wounded faces. I saw my eleven year old self crying and screaming for them to wake up and look at me again, to call me their baby again. But that did not happen, it never happened. And I saw the people that had done that to them, their smug faces and crooked smirks, their hands stained with the blood of my parents, and the set of tattoos on one of their forearms.

Yet, amidst the euphoria of our unlikely triumph, a shadow of worry lingered in my heart. My butterfly lay cradled in my arms, her once vibrant spirit subdued by the wounds inflicted upon her. The sight of her, pale and fragile, pierced through the veil of my elation, reminding me of the price we had paid for our victory. She had been clawed by one of the enemy wolves, a grim reminder of the dangers we had faced in our struggle.

“Was there wolfsbane around somewhere?” “Uh, no, we made sure to remove everything that could harm you in this palace, wolfsbane and silver.” “So how’s it possible? The only reason a werewolf would faint is if wolfsbane were around. That makes us weak.” and then I remember. “I remember seeing a butterfly.” “A butterfly?” “Yes, it had these dark wings, and on the wings there were stars. Does that description ring any bells with you?” Victor shakes his head. “How? No one saw the butterfly but me?”

His three advisors reached a large tent and went in before him, making sure it was clear of any potential surprises, and he paused to listen when Drax, his Royal Beta, and Luther, his Royal Delta, started laughing. “What are you two giggling about,” Brit asked irritably. “Can’t you smell that, Bitty,” Luther chuckled. “Someone got frisky in here not too long ago.” Brit was a Witch, meaning her senses weren’t as sharp as Luther’s, who was a Vampire, or Drax, who was a Werewolf. “Tell us, my loyal hound. What does your furry nose smell?” Drax growled at him, Luther was always trying to get under his skin. And pretty much always succeeded. “A powerful Alpha pup and some omega girl. Twice, a few

This butterfly kept flying and perched on the hand of a man sleeping there. In his sleep, this man's hands and feet were chained to the bed. He is like a prisoner. His face was pale and he had wounds all over his body. Even so, the butterfly still approached him, because he could smell the lily from his body. This smell is so strong, it makes the butterfly think that it has just landed on a flower. *** “We have to stop this agreement, Christ. Give that man back, I don't want anything to do with Harawaltz, especially with the crazy leader," Bianca explained.

Dahlia watched nervously as the prince's blood continue to drop into the witch's bowl. She wondered what he was up to. She really hoped that he was not really getting into a blood ritual that would bind them together. But that was his blood, and that was a witch. How else could this be explained?

I round the corner and stop, gasping as we end up in a scene you could only imagine would happen in the movies. Dutch wasn’t even outside that long, I don’t know how they had time to do it. Baylee screams, falling to her knees into a puddle of blood as she comes face to face with her best friend, ripped to tiny tiny pieces and thrown around the forest in chunks, her head lay by Baylees knees as she sobs. Drake catches up with us gasping, I hadn’t moved an inch, unable to in shock. “How is she going to get over this?”