Blood Line Book Novels & Stories

He pulled her into his arms, his palm sliding down the curve of her waist before grabbing her ass without restraint. Mia's cheeks flushed, but her body only pressed closer in submission, and yet Marco's eyes never once left me. "You're unhappy? You think I didn't care about you these three years? A man out there risks getting shot. Some things aren't within my control. "This time when I came back, the Godfather personally promised to put the docks under my management. I want you to obey my orders and continue being my mistress." I shook my head and said, word by word, "I'm already pregnant. I carry the Godfather's bloodline."

My father stared at me for a long time. “That is either very smart,” he said, “or very dangerous.” “Can it work?” I asked. He picked up the old book and turned the pages slowly. His finger traced lines of old writing. The candle flickered between us as I waited. “There is something here,” he said finally. He turned the book toward me. The writing was faded but I could make out a few words. Bloodline direction. Shared source. Carrier to carrier.

Sometimes I wondered if our children understood far more than they could express. I carefully opened the first chapter. The book was unlike any genealogy I had ever seen. It wasn't organized by kingdoms. Nor by families. Instead, it catalogued magical bloodlines. Their origins. Their gifts. Their evolution through the centuries. Some abilities had strengthened. Others had disappeared entirely. Some had merged into different families after generations of marriages. The author had meticulously tracked every known hereditary gift. Order moved closer. Chaos abandoned his usual jokes. Even Hunter sat straighter despite Queen Silveira insisting he should still be resting.

"Does that mean the Moon Goddess made a mistake this time?" Another question popped up. "What do you mean, Victoria? The Moon Goddess knows what she’s doing. She doesn’t make mistakes." "I’m just stating the obvious. Isn’t your dad an Alpha? Mine is, and so are all of you here.. But she, she is half werewolf, half witch." Victoria shot back. "What are you saying, Victoria? She has more Alpha blood than you do. She’s got the Wolf King bloodline." "She’s even the White Wolf. How can you say that, Victoria?"

“This is an ancient word, translated over centuries but roughly means…war.” War?! Of everything in the world, it had to be the one thing she hated. Violence can never and will never be a part of her life or her child’s life. The instructor observed the cold, intensity behind her blue eyes and tried putting her mind at rest. “See…your markings extend further which says a lot more than we know.” “Where did you find these books?” Elira attempted to change the topic. The man took a seat on the edge of the table, and gently brushed his fingers on their thick covers, staring at them like the most precious thing in the world.

The evenings belonged to my mother's journals. After helping Mel close the bakery, I would curl up near the small fireplace upstairs with a blanket and whatever journal I was currently working through. The more I read, the more questions I found. Tonight was no different. I carefully turned another yellowed page. The handwriting immediately caught my attention. Blood magic appears to manifest differently depending upon the bloodline carrying it. I sat up slightly. That was new. My eyes moved quickly across the page. Most historical records describe manipulation. Control. Extraction.

"You took another female to the dirt? At my sister’s wedding? On sacred ground?" "I did," he replied, his voice dropping an octave, the wolf beneath his skin finally stirring with a hint of shame. "The moon was high, the whiskey was spiked with wolfsbane, and I didn't use a suppressor. She’s carrying a pureblood heir. The test confirms the Graves lineage is dominant." "You told me we had years!" Serena’s vision blurred with hot, angry tears. "You said you wanted me all to yourself! That we didn't need to provide an heir for the council yet!"

Old books stacked in glass cases, labeled in ancient tongues. But what chilled me most was that one of the cases had been opened. I stepped forward, gaze fixed on the glass shards strewn across the floor. The velvet cushion inside the case was empty—its label read: “The Blood Chronicle: Wolfsong Lineage, Vol. I” “No...” I whispered. That book contained the deepest secrets of my bloodline. The ancient bond between our ancestors and the Moon Goddess. The prophecy of the one who would unite—or destroy—the balance between werewolves and the magic-bound.

The title etched on the cover caught my eye, sending a chill down my spine: The Lineage of the Blackhollow Coven. Curiosity and unease warred within me as I opened the book. The pages shimmered faintly, a subtle glow that hinted at the magic infused within them. It wasn’t just a history - it was alive, recording the lives of those within the Blackhollow bloodline as they unfolded. My breath hitched as my name appeared in delicate, glowing script, right above Aurora’s. The sight made my heart ache and swell simultaneously.

Is he really concerned with legacy and bloodline like he says, or is it something else? So far, everything has been about general things like plants and herbs. Healing and harming techniques. I’ve actually found several pages for Doc Bradshaw to look at as well as Greta. My current book is on bloodlines through the generations. Pretty boring when you don’t know the names, but I just saw a name that I do recognize and there is a line that shouldn’t make sense, but it gives me another reason to hate the former leader of the Demon Paw Pack. “No way!”