Blood Magic Well Of Suffering Novels & Stories

I yanked the bag downward with all my strength, then drove my knee up, slamming it straight into his stomach. A dull grunt escaped him as his body staggered backward. He collapsed against the stair railing, his face turning pale in an instant. Brian recovered and rushed at me again. I did not give him the chance. I bent down fast and grabbed the metal cash box my dad had thrown aside earlier. Bang! The edge of the box smashed down onto Brian's foot. "Argh! My foot!" He clutched it, rolling on the ground in pain. I did not stop. I grabbed my backpack and sprinted down the stairs.

"Are you hurt?" He exhaled through clenched teeth, his jaw tight. "Yes… Ever since that witch’s magic hit me, I feel like my blood is on fire. And it keeps getting worse." Concern flooded her features as she took a step closer, her fingers hovering near the fabric of his shirt. Without hesitation, she unbuttoned the top of it and pushed it aside, revealing the wound beneath. A bright red mark burned against his skin, its edges pulsating like embers from a dying fire. Her breath hitched at the sight of it. This wasn’t an ordinary injury, this was dark magic still festering inside him.

To wait until the exact moment when she is drawing your blood, when she is so focused on her victory that she doesn't see the trap closing around her. And then you must replace your blood with mine. Must speak the words I have written on the back of this letter. Must complete the counter-ritual while Stephanie is still connected to the Well. It will try to destroy her. The Well of Souls doesn't take kindly to those who try to force their way in through dark magic. If the counter-ritual works, if you time it perfectly, the Well will recognize what Stephanie is and reject her so violently that it will burn the dark magic from her completely. Possibly kill her.

Pouring out until there was no blood left. Other uses of blood magic were even more creative. Like the blood bomb, a spell with which a dwarf, blissfully unaware of the spell cast on him, would return to his garrison after a patrol and after a while go berserk and kill everyone in sight. No wonder, that long ago, the dwarves retreated from Zanestor.

He pulled out a small, iridescent silver vial and smashed it directly against my chest. The glass shattered, and a viscous, emerald-green liquid exploded across my skin. The agony was instantaneous and absolute. It wasn’t just poison. It was a strong, ancient strain of wolf-bane. This brew used dark magic to target the Lycan bloodline directly. It felt like liquid fire was being poured into my veins, melting my muscles and scorching my very soul. I let go of his throat, collapsing backward as the world began to spin out of control.

As her eyes skimmed the pages, she caught a couple of words; SHADOW STALKERS, BLOODSUCKER, PHANTOMS. Curious at the last word, Layla stopped on the page and read on. 'Vampires have the ability to appear and vanish at their own will right before your eyes.' Something dropped in Layla's stomach as she thought about Atreus and the strange vision she'd had of him the night before last. He had done just that, he disappeared without a trace as if he were never there at all. Her throat went dry as she thought about all of the strange moments that she'd had with Atreus since she'd met him.

Magnus slices his own palm open with the edge of the dagger and slams his bloody hand onto the base of the altar. Instantly, a surge of dark, crimson magic explodes out from the stone. The ground beneath my boots violently shakes, and a massive wall of glowing red blood magic erupts into the air around the altar. I try to leap over it, but the red energy slams straight into my chest like a solid wall of iron. The shockwave sends me flying backward through the air, my heavy boots sliding across the dirt as I barely catch my balance. A burning sensation flares across my skin where the barrier hit me.

I gasped against Lucien’s palm, my dark hybrid magic snapping awake in my marrow. I raised my hand, channeling a wave of pitch-black energy to blast Lucien backward. But the Vampire Sovereign was terrifyingly fast. Before my magic could erupt from my skin, a cold silver glint flashed in his hand. STING! A slender, thin needle pierced the sensitive skin on the side of my neck. A deadly, freezing poison rushed straight into my bloodstream. My vision instantly blurred, the dark magic swirling around my hands dissipating into thin air like harmless smoke. My knees buckled, my strength draining away in a fraction of a second as my body collapsed backward.