Blood Magic Well Of Suffering Novels & Stories

I stood upright despite my trembling legs, gasping for breath. The sorcerer moved closer. With a swift motion, he created a long ice blade glowing with an icy blue light in his hand. The blade shot forward and carved a deep diagonal slash across my chest. The pain was unbearable. I staggered backwards, pressing a hand against the wound. My blood poured freely, dripping onto the stone floor. But then something strange happened. The blood that touched the ice blade suddenly ignited. Not ordinary fire—this fire was black, yet hotter than any normal flame.

I couldn’t see their faces anymore, but I heard the tray crash to the floor and Ivy’s sharp, terrified scream. “The light—Morrigan, it’s burning through the glass!” The heat in my veins surged until I could no longer feel the table or restraints. I was no longer a girl, but a sun collapsing inward. My fading sight caught one last thing: the gold blood was no longer only in the vial. It was leaking from my wound, spilling across the floor in a molten river that lit the darkness on fire. My heart stuttered, stopped, and then the blackness came.

My hand forgets what she looked like halfway through and I’m left with something that’s almost her but not quite, something that makes my chest ache because it’s wrong and I can’t fix it no matter how many times I try. So I stopped trying. I set the charcoal down on the table beside me and rub my fingers together. The black dust smears across my skin, gets under my nails. It used to feel like progress, like I was making something. Now it just feels like evidence that I’m still here when I shouldn’t be. The room is so quiet it’s almost loud. The kind that sits on your chest and makes it hard to breathe, the kind that fills up all the space until there’s nothing left but you and your thoughts

I heard a crackling sound of broken glass, then my nose wrinkled as I smelled the delicious scent of blood dripping on the floor. “Elizabeth!” My father ran towards her, but something possessed me. Before my father was able to reach my unconscious mother, I ran towards her in a swift movement and sank my teeth into her bloody hand. My enraged father grabbed my shoulders and attempted to pull me away from my mother's already limp body, but the beast in me would not concede. I ferociously shoved him and continued on drinking my mother's blood to the last drop.

Ava's voice drifts down from somewhere above me. I try to turn my head—to see what she's talking to—but I can't move. Can't do anything but lie here and burn and tear and die. They're using my blood to revive Nickolas's brother. That's what this is. That's why they had to do it like this—some dark magic ritual that requires pain and fire and sacrifice. I'm dying for nothing. And I'm dying in the most agonizing way possible. Nickolas opens his mouth to speak—

me makes my eyes tremble. It resembled my visions exactly. Dimitri was in front of me, his lips and chest gushing blood from a dagger. I stabbed him in the heart with the silver knife in my shaking hands. I scream, “No, no, no, no, no!!!” and hastily place him on the ground. I took the dagger from him; the darkest magic had tainted and contaminated it. I covered his wound with my hands.“Alpha!” exclaimed Lance and Gabe as they hurried to join us. The whole pack stopped to watch, terrified of what would happen to their alpha. Dimitri tries to pronounce “Isabelle—” but it only sounds like a dry cough. I close my eyes and start chanting a healing spell, saying, “No Dimitri don’t speak, I’m goi

“Oh, but you did. Your fire woke it. The boy carried sleeping blood. Old blood. The kind the Council thought was gone. And you, my dear, pulled it out of him like pulling thorns from skin.” I shook my head hard. “No. He was just Damon. He was normal.” Magnus laughed, low and cruel. “No one is normal when they stand too close to you. You are the spark that wakes the dead blood. You make the buried rise.” Damon groaned, clutching his chest. The glow spread across his neck and jaw, his veins shining silver like rivers of light. His body shook as if something inside him was tearing free.

He swallowed hard, heart pounding in his chest, and bit his wrist, letting the blood flow in a steady, crimson stream. He placed it at her lips, watching it slowly drip into her mouth. He felt every tiny shiver, every involuntary twitch as the life-giving blood coursed into her body. Immediately, her wounds began to heal. The black magic that had cursed her veins recoiled at the purity of his power. He watched, tears threatening to spill, as her burns closed, her cuts sealed, her bruised skin regaining color.

She guided me to the center of the yard where moonlight pooled like water. “Kneel.” I obeyed. She stood before me. Lifted a blade from nowhere. Pressed it into her palm. Blood spilled like liquid lightning. Silver-red. Glowing. She raised her hand. I trembled. “Drink,” she whispered. I hesitated. Then obeyed. The instant her blood touched my lips— Fire. I screamed. The world fractured. She began chanting, her voice echoing unnaturally through the air. **“Sanguis antiquus, voco te…”**

"The people that was with this man is now unconscious. I puffed some sleeping powder onto the air without them noticing. We must throw this corpse far away from here" I felt a numbing pain in my head so the grasp of my hand within the bloody dagger that I used had loosen and made it's way on the floor with a clank. Mother immediately supported my body while looking at my appearance gently. "Y-yve, your hair and eyes is changing again. Lady Molly what is happening?!"