Blood And Tears Novels & Stories

shape, vein pulsating in my head. The sky had turned red. Rain fell thick and heavy—more like blood than water. Soldier cries rose and fell like waves as bodies collapsed across the battlefield. “Scarlet, stay with me.” I pleaded, watching blood pour from her side. “And why the—why aren’t you healing?” I snarled at the sky, pain tearing through me. My tears tasted of iron; the world around us kept dying. “Hey.” She reached for my hand, voice weak but urgent, pulling me back as I tried to lunge.

Blood flowed freely from a gaping wound on his forehead, pooling sickeningly on the floor. Tears blurred my vision as I tore a part of my top, ripping under my desperate fingers. I pressed the material against his head to reduce the bleeding, watching as the pale blue cotton immediately darkened to crimson. My fingers trembled uncontrollably, smearing blood across my hands, the scent filling my nostrils and making my stomach lurch violently. "Dad, please, please stay with me," I sobbed uncontrollably, my voice breaking with anguish. His blood felt warm against my cold hands, a horrifying reminder of the life draining from him.

Another cry tore free from her, sharp and broken, echoing off the concrete walls. Her chest heaved violently as she gasped for air, eyes snapping up to meet mine. Her jaw clenched hard, muscles trembling, tears rolling freely down her cheeks now. Real tears. She opened her mouth as if to speak again—then thought better of it. Her lips pressed together, her head slowly slumping forward as whatever strength she had left abandoned her. My lips pressed into a hard line as my gaze dragged from her face to her bandaged legs, now soaked through, blood steadily seeping out, dripping onto the floor beneath her.

I reply, nodding frantically against his spine. He slowly turns his head, and my heart shatters completely. God. He is in tears. The cold, untouchable billionaire has tracks of moisture cutting through the smooth skin on fhis face. My eyes drop down to his arm; hot, bright blood is dripping down the metal, pooling near my feet where the jagged glass sliced his skin. "Banks..."

Do I have to get my tears on his would for him to come back to life? Even thinking about it sounds ridiculous, but it’s worth a chance. After all, he can’t be any more dead than he already is. I grab hold of the knife and yank it out. It feels so gross sliding out, but the sound it makes, a wet, squishing sound, is even worse. It’s not hard for me to continue to cry. I just lean down close to his wound and let my tears roll onto his broken, bleeding flesh. The blood is only leaking out slowly now, and I imagine that’s probably because my brother’s heart is either no longer beating at all or the beats are so shallow, they aren’t doing anything to move the blood through his veins.

He was using dark magic to steal my power and I had no way to stop him. Tears of pain and desperation filled my eyes. I was going to die here. Dante was going to die trapped in that training hall. Elena would wake up to find everyone she cared about gone. The pack would fall to Rye and Sofia's betrayal. The tears spilled over, running down my cheeks. One landed on my bleeding palm. The moment it touched my blood, something incredible happened. The blood shimmered, then transformed. What had been red and flowing became clear as water. I stared in shock as more tears fell, each one touching the blood flowing from my wound. And with each tear, more blood transformed into pure, clear water.

He’d heard me introduce myself at the gallery. Still. Hearing him say it did something to me. “I live uptown,” I said, like that explained anything. He just looked at me for another long second. Then he turned and started walking again. I called after him. “Dmitri!” He stopped. Didn’t turn. “You’re bleeding,” I said. He glanced at his hand. Shrugged. “It’s fine.” “It’s not fine.” He finally looked back at me. For the first time, I saw something crack in that iron mask. Not much. Just a flicker. Exhaustion, maybe. Or something softer. Something that scared him more than the guy with the knife.

My heart breaks, the pieces falling through my body like shards of glass, tearing me up inside and devastating me all over again as I clutch my heart and I sob my eyes out. “Oh Luna I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry your going through this my love” Her arms Wrap around me, I turn into the hug and I cry into her shoulder for I’m not sure how long but by the time I’m done I pull away hiccuping. A look of horror crosses my features when I realise I had saturated Evelyns clothes in blood “Oh my gosh your covered” I tell her trying to stop more tears from falling, she frowns shaking her head

The tears, once foreign and strange, now flowed freely, washing away the facade of invulnerability, exposing the rawness of his emotional landscape. He would not deny himself this catharsis any longer. The tears were not a sign of weakness, but rather a testament to his humanity. They were a reminder that even in a world of gears and calculations, the capacity for love, loss, and longing remained. And so, he let them fall, his emotions pouring forth like a torrential rain, cleansing his metallic shell and nourishing his fragile spirit.

I didn’t need a blueprint. I just needed to follow the sound of the hearts I was protecting. THE END OF BLOOD AND BETRAYAL