Blood And Steel Cast Novels & Stories

The academy gates loomed ahead, massive black iron twisted into the shape of thorned vines. It glowed faintly along the metal, humming with magic that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. Two guards stood at the entrance, both armed with blades that looked older than the city itself. One was a vampire, pale as moonlight with eyes like melted gold. The other… I didn’t even know. His skin shimmered faintly, like his shape was never fully fixed in one form. They scanned us, eyes lingering on me, but Davorin murmured something under his breath and they stepped aside.

Jonah sent a single thumbs up emoji that made my chest ache. I should call them. I will. Just not right now. The car slows and I look up. There’s a gate ahead, tall and iron and imposing, the kind that makes it very clear you’re not supposed to be here unless someone specifically invites you. Stone pillars on either side with the name ‘Petrova’ carved into them in elegant letters. The gate starts to open before we even reach it, sliding apart smooth and silent like it knows we’re coming. We drive through and the road changes from asphalt to gravel, the sound of it crunching under the tires filling the quiet car.

She really was losing it. Nestled beside him on the cold stone, lay the relic. It was a small box, no bigger than her palm, crafted from a metal she didn’t recognize. It was a deep, obsidian black, and intricate silver filigree snaked across its surface, forming patterns that seemed to shift and writhe in the dim light. This was what she had come for, the reason she had braved the dangerous climb and the unsettling legends surrounding this forsaken place.

Arriving in Brookston took my breath away. The castle of the monarch was in a rock, I didn’t know how it was designed but it looked amazing. Well I thought it did until I saw that the messenger we sent ahead was strung up and almost dying by the gate. “This sign alone if enough to cause war between us.” Gwenn angry voice said beside me as Orel shook his head. “We are about to go to war with an empire, we cannot handle two. So for that reason alone, we will swallow this insult so that we can deal with the bigger evil.” Orel said, his voice just loud enough to reach Gwenn ears but no more.

And yet, somehow, I was given the hardest task of all. Picking up the tray, which was heavier than all the rest since it was full of pitcher of heavy blood, I made for the door. The Pack clinic always kept a well-stocked blood bank, both in case a wolf needed a transfusion and for whenever important Vampires come calling. Since Werewolves heal so quickly, it doesn't take much to restock it with donations. I helped Rosie a few times doing blood drives during the long years of the war.

Besides, I think they're too impatient to do things calmly. "What do you know about this wine called 'Blood of the Wise'?" Judging Orion's expression, there's no doubt, he's willing to tell him everything he wants to know. Ah. The scent of victory.

Calmly, I took a dagger, casually touching the sharp tip of the blade with my tongue. It was old, dark, made from bronze back during Alethar’s time. The forging style was called Raven’s Claws. It was not poisoned. Sharp steel easily punctured my wrist, and dark, almost black drops of blood fell onto the white plate. This was the focus which powered the blood magic, but it had to be royal blood, given freely.

Steel and Shadows The clash of steel rang through the narrow gorge. Snow churned beneath boots and claws. The Highland warriors fought with brutal skill axes rising and falling, blades gleaming through the mist. Aria moved like flame among them. Her sword danced in her hands, the crescent mark at her neck burning bright with magic. Every strike carved a path through Velkar’s bloodspawn. Every breath came sharp, but her mind remained clear. At her side, Kael fought with cold fury.

The flames turned into jagged shards of orange glass that fell and shattered on the ground. "We can't get close, Emma!" Félix shouted, his daggers useless against the void. "It’s not a physical cold! It’s the Absence of Motion!" I looked at the Iron-Wolves of the South. They were standing at the edge of the plaza, their skin iridescent with the magnetized silver-iron of their new evolution. "Arthur! The Iron-Blood!" I cried. "Your marrow! It’s the only thing with enough density to resist the Zero!"

Steel took a deep breath and said, "I want a thousand soldiers to open the city's entrance and defend it. We're going to welcome Sir Draco home." "Yes, sir!" *** Novemton's massively secure gates opened, and a total of a thousand fully armed soldiers stood on both sides of the entrance. Steel had ordered a hundred thousand men to build these gates and walls around the city, which was completed in a few days. These were the walls that protected everyone inside from the monsters. Since Steel was the one who ordered the walls to be built, the survivors call it the Wall of Steel. They looked to him as their leader, and he protected them ardently.