Blood Arrows Novels & Stories

Each warrior carried a m⁠ass⁠ive,⁠ militar⁠y-g⁠rad‌e‍ spe‍ll-bow, their si⁠lver-tipped⁠ arr‌ow‌s glowin‌g with a sicken‌ing, br⁠ight purple li⁠g‌ht, conc⁠entrat‌ed,‌ high-density silve‍r⁠-⁠blo‍c⁠ker, de‍sig‍‌n‌ed to‌ paralyze even a Lycan in secon‍ds. ‌A⁠nd e⁠very s‌i‌ngle one‍ of tho‍s‌e⁠ tw‌elve‍‍ b⁠owst‌⁠r⁠ings was drawn taut,‍ their gl‌owi‌ng a‌rrows ai⁠med not at my chest.‌.‌‍. but dir‍ec‌tly at Rh⁠ea, wh⁠o was lying helpl‍ess on the floor belo⁠w t‍hem. "‍⁠STEP B‍ AC⁠K,‌ ALPHA JAXON!"‍

Alaric easily evaded their attacks without killing them, wanting to keep to his words and let Asher have his fun. With the men firing bullets made with wolfbane, Asher had to be extra careful not to get shot; after all, he was still a wolf, and the bullet would definitely weaken him. As he was fighting, Alaric suddenly appeared in front of him, and he looked in shock to see that Alaric had caught a flying arrow. “Careful,” Alaric said, “this has the poison that was used that day.” “Thanks,” Asher said before taking the arrow from him and flinging it to the man who shot it, giving him a headshot. He turned then and punched the man behind him, breaking his head off his body, and watched as it

But a cornered snake is at its most venomous. From the shadows of a collapsed stone archway near the northern treeline, Madox dragged his broken, bleeding frame to his knees. His eyes burned with a mad, self-righteous light. With a final, trembling effort of his remaining strength, he lifted a heavy, mechanical hand-crossbow that had been dropped in the dirt. It was loaded with a specialized, dark-veined projectile—a Black-Silver Arrow, heavily saturated with an ancient, concentrated necrotic poison designed to rot a pureblood vampire's frozen core from the inside out. He didn't aim at Astrid. He aimed directly at the exposed back of Carmilla Dracul.

Once I knew Lira was safe, I could finally focus on the fight. “Archers,” I shouted, signaling the gammas to line up. We did not use the wooden arrows other packs relied on. Ours were iron arrows, made and marked as Blackthorne weapons. Before battle, each arrow was dipped in wolfsbane to ensure every hit was deadly. The gammas stood ready, bows drawn, waiting for my signal. “Release,” I said. A thousand arrows flew in the direction the attack had come from. Something felt wrong. The only way arrows could have reached the courtyard was if the enemy had entered the lands surrounding our territory. Those borders were heavily guarded by betas on rotating shifts.

Nickolas screams, his voice raw with terror as I stagger forward, the agony radiating through my body. Through the haze of pain, I watch as Nickolas dispatches the lycan I was fighting earlier. I take a deep breath before moving my hand behind my back, fingers brushing against the blood-slicked arrow. Not allowing myself a moment’s hesitation, I grit my teeth and yank, the barbed arrowhead tearing through muscle and sinew.

She raised her hand, ready to give the command. And then arrows rained down from the ridge above. Not our arrows. Not the First Blood archers who'd been providing covering fire. These were different—longer, heavier, tipped with some kind of glowing substance that left trails of light in their wake. They slammed into the feral wolves with devastating accuracy. Three of the beasts went down immediately, the arrows punching through their thick hides like they were made of paper. The others scattered, their formation breaking. "What—" Tiana spun around, searching for the source.

The pale brown almost birthmark looking tattoos along his arms, shoulders, back and chest blaze with divine light and a long bow appears in his massive hand, a full quiver on his back. “Careful of the weres and the humans!” I warn, as he nocks a wicked looking arrow and let’s fly into the back of a knife-wielding vampire with one of the Candlewood wolves pinned against a tree. Twitching as if a current of electricity was running through him, the vamp staggers back, but before the loosed were can tear into him, the arrow bursts into a white-hot flare, burning the bloodsucker from the inside out. My father glances at me, arching a brow.

I eyed the horrible burns around where the arrow was stuck. The doctor turned towards me. I snapped my gaze in his direction, my heartbeat speeding. He raised his hands for me to look at. I scanned the burns on his hands, the fresh reddish spots. “ The arrow was possibly dipped in wolfsbane. ” He let out. “ What’s that? ” I frowned.

In order for me to appear as threatening as possible, I tie up my long, dark hair into a bun and don't wear any makeup. It would be interesting to discuss how we could use exploding arrows as a way to kill demons. I know it has to do with the Ebola virus, but I was thinking maybe we could create arrows that would erupt into the bloodstream when imbedded in someone's skin. I headed outside to see both Rectors mate and Margaret sparring with each other. I was impressed they both had admirable skills. I would love to take each one on and compare our skills.

But- "Stop!" Anthony called out. He rose to his feet clutching his arm. "We're leaving!" Anthony growled. He had originally come here intending to kill Havoc himself or at least have the monster put down with poison arrows that were almost a family heirloom. The poison coating the arrows had been made by elves more then a thousand years ago. The poison never diminished and was one of the most efficient killers in the world.