Blood Mercy Novels & Stories

This is the first time I have introduced my characters six chapters into a story. I am doing this because the pace of the book will start to get faster, and if the characters get confusing, you can come back to this chapter. Mercy is a diverse town where people stay, and businesses are owned by the same families for generations. In Mercy, there are two Mafia families who have had a truce for the last decade.

"My biggest regret in life is letting my mom save you." Nathan broke down in an instant. Then, with a loud bang, the trigger was pulled. Instantly, blood splattered all over the wedding hall's floor. However, the bullet went through Nathan's chest but missed the vital spot. … When Nathan woke up in the hospital, he didn't see me as he had hoped. … After being discharged, Nathan clutched his bleeding wound and dropped to his knees outside my house. Snow fell heavily that night, and he watched as the last light in the villa went out.

“Set it up.” Brad’s expression darkens. “You’re planning to go to the funeral?” “Yes.” Lamar lets out a whistle. “You? Showing up there? That’ll get people talking.” Good. Let them talk. Let them see that I don’t forget debts or tolerate betrayal. Mercy in my world is the first step toward losing control — and control is something I’ll never surrender. “Good,” I say quietly. “Let them all see.”

He was wearing a bright coloured shirt so Brian saw bloodstains slowly dripping from the back of his head to his shirt. Henry was almost connecting his hand to the door handle when he turned around to face Brian. "One last thing, I know feelings cannot be forced but I would rather kill you than allowing that sweet innocent girl to get involved with you. You don't deserve love, mercy or care. You deserve hate and bitterness and you also deserve to end up with the likes of Kayla and Aura." Henry said, then took his leave, slamming the door behind him.

Emy gasped as the heat from the strike sank straight into Emy’s core, and a broken moan tore from his throat. “That’s what you want?” Jack growled as he landed another slap on the other side, harder this time. “This is what you’ve been begging for?” Emy nodded, even though his forehead was pressed into the counter. The pain was a key, turning in a lock he’d kept sealed for a decade. It didn’t hurt. It freed instead. It made him feel alive for the first time in years. Jack’s hand left his skin, and Emy heard the rustle of denim. His heart stopped. Then started again, triple-time.

The man’s eyes widened in horror, his voice strangled in his throat. “No… no, please!” he cried, thrashing helplessly against the chains that bound him. Liam crouched down, tilting the blade so the man could see his own terrified reflection. “You know I wish I could have mercy ,” Liam whispered coldly. “But mercy doesn’t exist in my world.” With one swift motion, the blade sliced through flesh and bone. The man’s scream was cut short as his head rolled to the floor, thudding heavily before landing sideways, his lifeless eyes still frozen in terror.

“And you’re his Thorn, so you’re my daughter too, if you want it.” The face in her chest snarls. “Don’t listen, you’re mine, I made you.” Mercy touches the glass. “You, made, prison.” She makes a fist. The glass cracks. The face screams. “Stop, you’ll die, the implants—” “I, choose,” Mercy says. She punches through her own chest. Blood, black and red, sprays. She pulls Gerald’s preserved head out, wires snapping. It gasps, then goes still.

‘My only wish is for you to take good care of this pack, be good to them and I promise, they will be loyal to you if you are loyal to them’ when that thought came to mind it was like a bulldozer, crushing the walls that the demon had built to block them. As soon as there was an opening Carl forced a shift, it was the most painful one Collin had ever had, even his first shift was not as painful as this one. Sounds of bones cracking sounded in the air and Mercy let go and moved back. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, today she will be meeting Carl for the first time as her normal self and not Mercia.

“You are right.” And in the middle was cut a symbol I had not witnessed in ages, a boy one of the most ancient symbols in the world, that being two serpents biting each other in a circle. The symbol of Mercy’s Edge. “That’s impossible,” I murmured. Killian’s voice was hollow. “Not if someone’s reawakened it.” Mercy’s Edge was the name of a relic. A forbidden one. A mirror born in blood and anchored in grief. An object that could reflect the final memory—or state—of someone bonded to you.

The black heart convulsed between us, furious that memory could still interrupt possession. The first Luna moved then—not toward the black heart, but through it. Silver fire passed into the split stone like breath returning to a chest after centuries of forced silence. The scream that followed was not hers. It was the mechanical false-heart finally feeling the shape of the life it had replaced. Mercy surged through the bond, not gentle, not soft—furious, enormous, unwilling to be severed again.