Blood Feud Book Novels & Stories

She read all the contents of the book in a few minutes. "Beastman. That's what you call the people who had an ancient spirit beast's blood. Hansel and Hannah attracted a lot of spirit beasts when they were hurt. Spirit beasts desired the blood of an ancient spirit beast because it will make them stronger. They are two blood fighting inside Hannah and Hansel's body. One is the blood of a human and the other is the blood of an..." Soheila took down the book and gulped. "...ancient spirit beast." The bathroom suddenly opened and Soheila saw Theodore coming out wearing a thick black shirt and black pants. Theodore was wiping his wet hair using a towel as he walked towards Soheila and sat beside

Cole answered “Your father ? What has he got to do with the book?” Anthony asked, seeming less enthusiastic. “I got the book from my father dude, he passed it to me before his death” Cole answered back. “Relax man, I don’t seem to get it…your father did?” Anthony asked again, seeming interested now. “Yeah, he was on the verge of his death when he threw the book at me” *** ** FLASHBACK ** ** * It was a bloody feud between the Mooners pack and Maroon pack, their enmity between them has lingered for long as they felt this war would probably stop all hate and put an end to the rage.

“So get yourself ready to play the role of the grieving wife of the new Capo dei Capi, even if your fucking father was responsible for this.” I head into the walk-in and leave her there to stew in the news I’ve just delivered. We suspected Alberto Moretti, but that suspicion was solidified when we found his calling card in the pocket of my father’s tuxedo jacket. A fucking dried red rosebud - the same thing my father left on the body of Alberto’s son after he killed the heir. This I found out last night after my uncle came clean - this fucking blood feud is justified because my own father started it. And now I’m here, left in the wreckage of the shit the great Emilio Vittori started.

Further down the corridor was a cellar, which is where Bloodstain's den was. Guila walked to her bed and pulled out a black-covered book. It wasn't heavy or too thick. That was the only book she could save from being destroyed. The last book about the story of the first lycanthropist. It tells how it all happened and gives details about the moon goddess and her history with him.

I say, not bothering to soften the accusation. The Mistress of Coin folds her hands. "We would entrust you to lead us into it." It is, I suppose, a promotion. I close my eyes, just for a moment, and feel the weight of the letter against my skin. My father’s voice echoes in my memory: There must be no further war. When I open them, I see not the council, but the faces of the villagers in the Wound, the boy with the burn-scarred face, the woman who gave me the weed for luck.

"And now, it belongs to the future Mrs. Vincent Luciano." Gianna’s gasp was a masterpiece of melodrama. She instantly clutched at Santino’s arm, her fear manufactured and perfect. "V-Vincent Luciano? Il Macellaio di Brooklyn? The Butcher of Brooklyn? The head of the Syndicate!" Marco slammed his scotch down on a nearby glass table with a sharp, decisive clink. His face became a mask of profound disbelief and mounting, terrifying rage.

“Do you hear yourself, Joey? Wolf or not, this is our pup, we are talking about. “How can you be so reckless with its life?” Joey replied indifferently, “No, I know what I’m doing. As the Moonstone Pack’s Alpha, I must put the pack first. My pup has to be as strong as I am. Without a wolf, the pup won’t be accepted in this world.” Fever clouded my mind while rage burned through me with a tremendous pain in my belly. Pressing my hands against my abdomen, I confronted Joey in a cold sweat.

"Now. The code. The sequence you memorized and locked away. Give it to me." He reached down, his fingers hovering agonizingly close to the fresh, bleeding cut on my arm, threatening to pry the raw flesh apart to get to the subdermal tracker beneath. A scream built in my chest, but I bit my lower lip so hard I tasted the copper tang of my own blood. Through the blinding haze of physical pain and the crushing weight of betrayal, a spark of pure, venomous rage flared to life deep inside me.

“Do not… Please do not. I know you are acquainted. Partners, I guess. “No, you are related. Is he your boss? Did he send you to bring me here? Where is he?” “I am not my uncle. I would never do what he has done to you.” I almost laugh sarcastically. “No, you are worse than him. Nice work you have done with me. You are an internationally wanted Mafia boss killer ... The bullet… Can anyone get scarier than that?” “I don’t want to kill you, Keirah.” I can’t stand his tricks. But I still plead, hoping there is a bit of humanity left in him.