Blood Battle Blockade Manga Novels & Stories

One can change one's fate. "See me as I am, now, Amaya. See me suck your blood as I own the authority you attained in a snap of a finger." Kagome laughed while Amaya is drowning and losing herself. The blood coming out of her body is causing her to become paler, but the source is nowhere to be found. The Source of the blood is closed, and no one could find it. Venus tries to get in. Yna, Mune, and Dylan are also trying to get inside the fighting scene, but Kagome is prepared for this, a spell has been assigned around them. No one can ever come inside, no one will get to interfere.

Her voice dripped with venom. I raised an eyebrow. "I didn't steal anything. And who is Ace to you, anyway?" I shot back, my curiosity piqued. She cried, shaking her head frantically, and then yelled, “How dare you say his name?!” “How dare I?” I chuckled softly, giving her my best ‘did you miss your way’ look. Because, really, did she miss her way? “You’ll pay for this, you will, you spawn of the devil!” Heather deadpanned, her little friends had gotten her something to keep the blood from flowing. She pressed the paper towel to her nose, suppressing the blood.

he chuckled, "Anyone else has something to say? No? Good, because we are going to kill this bitch," I don't know what got into me, killer instincts maybe, but instead of running away, I run towards them, dodging every bullet. How is this possible? I don't know, it's like the world stop and I was the only thing moving in it. Gripping the blade tighter in my hand, I stood in the middle as their bodies fell around me like dead flies, I slit their throats. Standing behind, I blocked Clarke's attack, shoving the muzzle of the gun to the skies the loud rings of gunshots filled the air, raining empty shells down on us, "What- what are you?" He groaned trying to escape from my grip, my fingernails e

Chapter 1: Blood Debt The warehouse smelled like rust and death. Luca Rossi stood over the body, chest rising slow and steady, the only sound in the sudden silence. Marco Vitale’s eyes stared up at the cracked ceiling, vacant now, blood pooling dark and thick beneath his head. One clean shot—center mass—then two more to be sure. Message delivered. Luca wiped his hands on a rag one of his men handed him, though the blood had already dried under his nails. He didn’t flinch. He never did.

“You believe you lose your blood because you have money?” His jaw tightened slightly. “My parents died, and it is people like you who made my voice shake,” I said. “People who determine that others are irrelevant.” The guards came nearer, and they caught my arms. "Take her," Dino said. Trying to turn my head back to look at him, I was pulled by them towards the door. “It is no use killing me and washing your blood,” I said. Dino hesitated, the first time in a long time. "Wait," he said suddenly.

The barrier deflected the attack, and Mia’s glare turned towards me, filled with rage. The pain in my belly started to worsen, the contractions intensifying. I whispered to myself, "Even this pain can’t stop me." Damon and Kayden, in their wolf forms, looked at me, signaling for me to drop the shield. Reluctantly, I complied, unable to maintain it any longer. As Kayden and Damon engaged in battle, I fought my way through the soldiers blocking my path, trying to reach Mia.

Blood and Bonds The rain-soaked clearing pulsed with tension, the air thick with the scent of wet earth, blood, and betrayal. Aria stood frozen, caught between Victor’s cruel smile and Caden’s blazing fury. The pack warriors flanked their Alpha, their eyes glowing in the firelight, while Victor’s rogues formed a loose circle, their claws and blades gleaming. Rollan’s blanket was still clutched in Aria’s trembling hands, a fragile tether to the son she’d do anything to protect.

He has been down here for four hours, which is nothing, which is routine, which is what he tells himself. The blood-sense has been smoking for eleven days. Two hundred and sixty-three years he's had it. Since the night in 1762 when a woman named Elise, who turned him against his own considered wishes in a Viennese cellar during the Seven Years' War, pressed her wrist against his mouth and said, you'll understand in a moment, and he did. He understood immediately. He felt his bloodline snap into place the way you feel a map unfold — the specific geography of everyone who had ever come from Elise, and everyone who had come from them, a web of thirty-seven souls distributed across Europe like s

Pain rippled through my ribs, but I kept going. He was strong. Stronger than before. But not stronger than me. We hit each other like we wanted to tear the soul from the other’s body. I clawed his chest, he clawed my back. We rolled, slammed, struck, grunted. Blood hit the floor, but neither of us fell. Until the odds shifted. Two of his pack joined the fight. Three against one. I pushed harder. Every muscle in me screamed. I fought them like an animal, but it was getting tighter, heavier. My breath was short. My vision flickered red.

Malcolm slammed an enemy into the ground, his claws slicing through his chest. Callum crushed a wolf’s skull between his massive jaws, the crack of bone lost in the sea of screams. It was a massacre. Bodies piled high. The battlefield was drenched in crimson. And still, they fought. Because this war was far from over. Because Eliana had yet to shift. And Kade was still standing. Untouched. Unchallenged. Unstoppable. The night was not yet won. And the blood would keep spilling until it was.