Novel & Cerita Blood Hunt #5

“The One God isn’t listening to you. But someone else is. I can cure your brother. But if I do, you’re going to leave the Van Helsings, do you understand?” He dragged in a breath - hope battling against suspicion. “Why are you covered in blood?” He asked, his eyes going to the staircase and a frown pinching his eyebrows together. He knew that he should finish drawing his gun, that he should yell for backup… but if she could do what she claimed… “What’s going on, Devon?” The weeping brother had made his way up the aisle to stand behind Heath, his hand resting on his weapon. “What the fuck?” He exclaimed as he took in Aislen and Heath’s blood-smeared bodies. “Who are these people?”

“What do you mean no leaving the room? No talking back? And I have to kneel when you say so too?” He scoffed in disbelief. “Who the fuck do you think you are to come up with all this? You can not just decide that my life belongs to you when I never asked you for any of this.” He drew in a sharp breath. “I never asked to be hunted. I never asked to be bought bought you! Or rescued like you think you did!” I turned around. He was still talking. The words he was forming tumbled out of his mouth between broken breaths as the tears that ran down both sides of his face just dripped off his chin and onto his shirt—the same shirt I had set out and left for him that morning.

Ignoring the cold I sprinted down the stone stairs in just my shirt and shorts, dragging on boots at the bottom of the steps. I got there first, hurtling around the corner just ahead of Beldon and Morrell to find my girl sobbing on her knees, cradling a bloodied bald man in her arms.. There was blood on the snow. So much blood that it had seeped and merged in with the tyre tracks for several metres down the hill towards the rising dawn horizon. “Are they alive?” “Arlen and Sol only just, but these two-” and my heart twisted to recognise the black swirling tattoos caked in red. Axel and Jones. Here less than a day and murdered.

Blood continued to drip, a rhythmic, thick patter against the hardwood floor. "Dante, the blood... it’s still steaming." Bianca gripped her hunting knife so hard the hilt bit into her palm. She stepped around the edge of the massive bed, her boots sticking slightly to the crimson-soaked rug. "He wasn't killed an hour ago. He was killed minutes ago."

The hunter had become the hunted. And the only question that remained: how many souls would have to fall before this blood-soaked game finally reached its end?

Adrian's men had once asked whether they should get my father medical help, but Adrian refused. After that, no one dared bring it up again. Adrian swayed and sank into a chair. "Tell me clearly." "Where did the money for my treatment come from back then?" Hannah opened her mouth. At last, she began to confess, and the past returned with brutal clarity. Five years ago, Adrian had been in a car accident. His inner wolf was badly injured, and during treatment, serious complications developed. The doctors said saving him would be difficult. The cost would be enormous.

Hunter pointed out, abruptly stopping me halfway before I could lie on the bed. “Yeah, right, I actually didn't remember that and my hands are stained as well” I tossed the blanket aside, sitting up on the bed and watching my red hands. It was David's blood and it had dried up in my palms after carrying it around with me when we went, going to find Anita. “Hey, are you okay?” Hunter asked, taking the seat in the room and dragging it closer to the bed where I sat. “Yeah, of course, I'm fine” I shifted my attention from my hands to look at him, letting him know that I was okay.

After a few minutes nothing happened. "Something is going on with you," Zain stated and grabbed her hand. He stared at it then looked at her with confusion in his eyes. "Your fingers are turning black," he said with a raspy voice. Megan looked at her fingers and saw the darkening tips. She curled them and tuck them into her coat pockets "I don't know what's happening." "You should have listened to me." They searched around when they heard a loud strange noise, and before their very eyes, Josie's werewolf body disappeared!

Blood. Dread settled over me like a heavy shroud. The once serene garden now bore the threatening mark of violence. I knelt down, scrutinizing the crimson stain on the ground. Fear coiled in my stomach, and the silence of the garden seemed to echo with the ominous weight of the unknown. Zoey's disappearance had already been a challenging situation, but the presence of blood escalated the situation to a new level of urgency. Every worst-case scenario raced through my mind. I couldn't lose her. Not after all she had been through.

She just wanted to be the Alice who blended in at school, not this hybrid drowning in a tangle of forbidden desires and buried secrets. A sudden surge hit her—her fingers tingled, nails lengthening, sharpening, as panic flooded her chest. She gasped, collapsing onto her bed, hands clutching the quilt, heart racing. Her senses flared—too sharp, too alive—catching a wild scent, like fur and blood. A vision slammed into her: a sterile lab, a baby crying, needles glinting, Samuel’s voice—her father’s—hissing, She’ll be our weapon. Her wrist burned, and she yanked up her sleeve, gasping at a faint scar she’d never noticed, shaped like a crescent moon with claws, glowing faintly. The vision shifte