Blood Of Cuchulainn Novels & Stories

"Promise me you'll run if you need to. Promise me you won't let love or loyalty or the gods-damned bond get you killed." "I promise to do what's necessary to keep us both alive," I say. It's not the promise he wants, but it's the only one I can give. He opens his mouth to argue, but the words die as the first rays of the Bloodmoon crest the horizon. The effect is instantaneous. Kael's body goes rigid, his eyes rolling back as the curse surges through him. The mark on his ribs flares brilliant red, and shadows explode from his skin like smoke. He gasps, falls to his knees, the chains rattling as his muscles spasm. And then he screams.

She craved the chance to challenge old enmities, to prove that even the deepest wounds could one day yield healing. Now, as she rounded a graffiti-splashed corner, her thoughts drifted through the annals of her people’s history. She envisioned smoky war camps under moonlit skies, survivors sharpening claws against stone and bone. She recalled the legends of Kingsleigh champions—nimble warriors who had once duelled winged vampires atop turreted rooftops, their silhouettes painted against the rising dawn. Yet, for every tale of neko valor, there was a counter-narrative: tales of her own kind forced into shadowed enclaves, their sharp ears pricked by the soft beat of vampire wings overhead. Hat

Rough hands shoved me into the stone wall, the impact ripping the air from my lungs. Claws raked across my arm, burning hot. I cried out, my necklace flaring with light as blood welled against her skin. Becca’s laugh was cruel, sharp. “Guess the freak bleeds like the rest of us.” The pain was white-hot, but deeper than that—something inside me stirred, a dangerous swell of power threatening to burst free.My vision blurred. I could hear the pulsing of blood.

The castle shook on its foundation and I could faintly hear the sounds of waves crashing against the castle walls. My eyes moved down to the vines holding Celine in place and draining her blood like a parasite and without any rational thought left, I charge straight at it. A heat travelled through my palms as I did and I barely had time to glance down and found the soul cleaver glowing with a faint light. Somehow my rage or pain was feeding it, good. It would make certain I destroyed these rituals and make certain that it was destroyed completely without any hope of being reawakened ever again.

His mouth had moved to his forehead, his eyes reddened, they were held by a single line from the socket. “You don’t learn your lessons, do you?” Then he spun around and threw me at a tree. BANG I coughed up the blood that had formed in my chest from the impact. My heartbeat hammered in my ears. What the hell was this thing? It slowly made its way towards me, opening its gaping maw that led into the darkness and sharpened teeth ready to pierce through its victim. The heat in my chest slowly built up, a heat that was familiar but strange.

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.

With a fierce roar, Othniel bit through his tongue and sprayed blood across his cavalry saber. Instantly, the blade turned blood-red, transforming into what looked like a demonic weapon. Knox shouted in alarm, "Watch out! That's the Highland Tribe's Blood-Forging Art. It amplifies combat power." Othniel's face twisted grotesquely. "Take this!" A crimson lightning bolt suddenly descended from the sky, striking his blade. Othniel's entire body shook as he rose into the air, looking like a God of Thunder, wielding red lightning.

Muscle tone, charisma, everything faded whilst he was unconscious on a table. Zena’s hands shook as she intensely muttered her oaths and tributes. A language I did not recognise, I turned away and buried my face into Briss’s arm when she finally cut Cillian’s throat using a bronze blade. The angry swell of scarlet blood down hs neck was terrifying. But the gleaming starlight travelled straight into him. Cillian’s whole body then shook, convulsing as his wolf re-entered and accepted him as a host.

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.