Blood Of Empire Novelas e Histórias

So in his eyes, all my sacrifices, the blood I had shed, the tears I had swallowed, even my life, meant nothing. I let out a quiet laugh, my throat tight and dry. "You're right. "However, today, I'm leaving no matter what." I grabbed the eagle emblem and hurled it straight at his face. The sharp edge sliced across his cheekbone, and a thin line of blood ran down his face. Everyone froze. Then I turned and walked away. I had only taken a few steps when I heard the rapid click of high heels behind me. "Stop!" Sofia rushed up and raised her hand to slap me. I caught her wrist and twisted it hard and she let out a sharp scream.

Life had taken care of that years ago, some rival family putting a bullet in his skull before I’d been old enough to do it myself. But his daughter was alive. And she’d walked straight into my empire like fate had a sick sense of humor, like God himself was testing me to see if I’d become the man my father had raised me to be or something weaker. So yes, I’d brought her close. Close enough to touch, break, and enough to make her pay for the sins written into her DNA, even if she didn’t remember the man who’d given them to her, even if she’d spent her whole life running from shadows she couldn’t name.

Raeleigh Campbell POV {I’ve never been more scared in my life; I never want to experience anything like that ever again. If it wasn’t for him, I don’t know if I would have gotten away. It’s a feeling I never want to experience ever again. I’m never going out without my security detail ever again.} Today was a big day I had bought an outfit especially for today. I planned to wear a pink boho style short dress with a pair of thigh high suede tan boots.

I wanted to meet him sooner. The Blood Tyrant. The Emperor. The monster. I closed my eyes. And for the first time in years… I dreamed of blood.

The iron tang filled her nose, her throat, until she could taste it. “You’re sick,” she whispered. He laughed, a short, mocking sound. “No. I’m only being realistic. You’re the one still pretending this game can be played clean. Look at you, all pale and shaky. You think you’re cut out for this? Empires don’t run on paperwork, sweetheart, they run on blood. And if you resist it long enough, yours would be on the floor.” He gestured to the scarlet pool on the floor and Carlos’ blank eyes.

A ripple in silence. Then: "The blood lives on." ~~~~~~~~~~ BOOK OF BLOOD "He did not take the throne. He burned it. “He did not wear the name. He rewrote it.” “And in doing so, he ended the war not with fire... But with memory.” That is how empires end. And how better ones begin." —Book of Blood, Last Page.

Now that everything she had fought for was in danger, she would not let this creature see her give in. Before the same old hunger took its place, there was a brief glimpse of something nearly human in the figure's bright eyes. "You carry the blood of the rogue king." Its tone was one of awe, as if Emily's heritage were something to be revered. "His blood is yours to use, but it is my inheritance. Emily, you are the vessel. The prophecy ties us together. As the words from the figure set in, the ground shook beneath Emily's feet. Her father’s blood. The prophecy.

The three thousand warriors rose to their feet in a single motion, their eyes fixed on my face with a terrifying hunger for war. "For nineteen years, the Bloodmoon pack told you that your royal bloodline was dead," I said, my voice echoing off the high stone walls of the canyon. "They built their thrones on the bones of our family, and they called it a dynasty. They poisoned my body to keep me weak, and they banished us to rot where they couldn't smell us. But tonight, the lie is dead. We are not running to hide anymore. We are marching to claim our empire." Another deafening roar of approval shattered the valley wind.

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair, his gold rings catching the dim light. “Bad blood, Milo. A girl tied to your son, now wearing your ring? That’s a crack in your armor. Empires fall when the heart gets involved.” My hand itched for the blade strapped beneath my jacket, but I kept it still, my face a mask of cold indifference. I’d built my empire on control, on blood, fear, and unrelenting will. No one, not even Dimitri, would see me falter. “Cross that line, and you’ll find out how solid my armor is,” I said, my tone carrying the promise of violence. “My house is in order. Can yours say the same?”