Blood Isn't Thicker Than Water Novels & Stories

She really didn’t want to bath again but looking down at her clothing and her skin she realized how dirty she really was. Stripping off her clothes she entered the bathroom she realized that some of what she thought was mud was actually blood from one of those wolf creatures. As she studied the blood on her clothing it dawned on her that even the creatures blood wasn’t normal. It was thicker, almost like paste and it was so dark I read that looks black, but perhaps the most curious thing of all was even now after all that time had passed the blood was still warm.

its eyes were red and bloodshot, but they glinted in the light, like stars. No, like blood, like red blood pumping through a vein as fast as it can. Blood doesn't glow in the dark or reflect the light when it hits water, so the wolf was probably lying about being a werewolf and not just drunk from the nearest stream. Her heart was beating so loudly she wondered if she could hear it through the wall.

I felt my cheeks heat, “I mean… I already messed up by spilling something on his suit.” “Ah, I see.” A warm smile spread across her face, “I don’t think you need to worry about that. He’s usually pretty chill about those kinds of things. Besides, from what I heard this morning, you are his…uh…blood vessel. Your job requirement isn't much for real. Just make sure you eat enough fruit so you won’t get anemic when you start serving him your blood.” My cheeks were crimson as I listened to her speak, “Oh… thank you, I guess.”

I have also informed them. "Okay, your wife's condition is very weak. She may have to stay here until tomorrow. Apart from that, she also has to take vitamins when she wakes up. I need to explain that the conditions of ordinary humans and werewolves are somewhat different. Their blood will change color according to their condition. "Right now, Agatha's blood is blue because she is weak and can turn red again when her condition is stable. Apart from that, it can turn black when she is very badly injured. Maybe you have experienced that."

I know what you’re thinking. Blood is blood, so what’s the big deal? Fresh blood straight from the vein always tastes better than a bag. Try to think about the difference between drinking a cold soda and a warm and, worse, flat soda. That’s how I feel about the difference between fresh blood and a blood bag.

After all we were blood and it does say that blood is thicker than water. Thinking about it further only made me realize that they possibly had these resolutions before betraying me and they still went ahead to do it. I was already having a headache from thinking too much so I stood up and went to the dispenser to get water. After downing two cups of water, I felt a bit refreshed.

- Dilute the blood with a little water. - Disgusting. It must be a mess. - The blood becomes more diluted, that's all. - If you cut up a steak and put it in a glass of water to drink, would you like it? Julius laughs. - It has nothing to do with blood. Do you want to try it? You must be hungry, you're simply afraid of vomiting. - Maybe – Romeo replies with a big grimace that makes Julius chuckle.

“Do you not bleed red?” She beams, her crystal green eyes glittering. She stabs her thumb, and I gasp at the sight of blood so black, it could be tar. “Werewolves bleed black, Vampires bleed blue, Fae blood is ichor, Lycans…well, they don’t bleed. They have skin thicker than Adamantine. Though, if I were to take a wild guess—” “Vampires? Lycans?” My voice is faint, breathy. My gaze zeroes in on her finger and the wound that is now closed. “You’re a werewolf?”

“If you love blood and what you want to do with it, then that’s it.” “Damn, creativity.” My wife clicked her tongue in annoyance, making him laugh more. “Blood is a thick liquid form; you must shape it according to your liking.” With an amused smile, Vladimir added, and for some reason, I shivered like Ceres was here with us. Damn, sinister vampires. “Mother-in-law will kill you if Roxanne dies in the process.” I heard Minerva’s comment, making Vladimir pout. Imagine a charming adult trying to be cute to his wife—erk.

"Miss Lila didn’t want to go. She said every time she set foot on campus, her head ached. Delivering milk makes her happier." Happier? My daughter had always been top of her class, obsessed with studying. She had clawed her way into that university. I knew exactly how hard she had worked. And now delivering milk made her happier? No. Something was very, very wrong. The unease gnawed at me. I scrolled through Adrian’s social feed, and there it was. Just a short while ago, he’d taken Martha, Paul Mitchell the driver, and Serena on an overseas vacation. During that same period, my poor Lila had collapsed from heatstroke and been rushed into the hospital.