Blood Of Olympus Kindle Novels & Stories

I grabbed a match from the mantle and struck it. “What are you doing?” Silas roared, lunging for me. I dropped the match. The gilt-edged pages, soaked in the dry rot of twenty years, caught instantly. The secrets of the Ares empire—the murders, the bribes, the “Conditioning”—erupted into a wall of orange flame. “I’m clearing the site,” I said. Silas tackled me, the weight of him slamming me into the mahogany desk. We hit the floor, a tangle of limbs and fury. I felt the detonator fly from his hand, skidding across the floor toward the vault.

The black stone towers rose against the dim crimson sky, and the silver-veined paths glimmered beneath their feet. Students moved around them in clusters, some in deep, crimson-trimmed uniforms, others in darker grey and silver. Wolves. Vampires. Others, rarer and harder to place. Everyone looked like they belonged. Virelle felt that difference immediately. She was watched from every direction, not always openly, but constantly. Eyes tracked her progress. Whispers changed shape as she passed. The silver-blood girl. The oath anomaly. The thing from the Hollow Grounds.

In the blinding brightness of the room, the blood looked unnaturally dark, almost black. "There is a beautiful vulnerability to the human body," the Director said. He sounded entirely conversational, his voice smooth and untroubled over the sound of my ragged, choked breathing. "We think we're so strong, so invincible when we're running through the shadows. But we're really just water, bone, and nerves. And nerves, Elara, are so incredibly easy to manipulate. They are the ultimate biological design flaw."

When I came to, I was bound to a stone altar, wrists tied so tight I couldn't move, a cloth stuffed in my mouth so I couldn't call out. The blood-drawing was agony. Divine blood is a god's source of power: it's like being stabbed in the chest over and over, and having the wounds held open. I fought until the ropes cut deep enough into my wrists to draw blood, until I had nothing left to fight with. The blood left too fast. My consciousness began to slip. They left me at the base of Olympus.

Otsana’s gold mark burned beside me, but its light bent toward the throne like a flame leaning toward wind. Ashina sobbed harder, gripping her stomach while Maelor’s heartbeat echoed through the black bone like drums beneath a coronation hall. The first Blood Feather book floated above the throne, no longer thrashing, no longer screaming, but opening itself like a servant obeying its true master. A circle of old blood appeared around the throne’s base, then spread outward until it touched Blackfang warriors and Northridge nobles alike. Conri shouted orders, but the blood ignored every blade, every title, and every frightened foot trying to step away.

Anine asked. "Your daughter needs the blood of the deity on it. When he appeares in human form, give him a cut. Do not wrestle with him. Just a cut. The blood of that body he uses is the only thing that is needed on this sword. Ajonwa is a Spirit but he uses the body to wreak havoc. Get the blood on the sword and he would be no more. "He would kill me!" Anine said almost loudly. "Once his blood touches the sword, he would be rendered powerless and he will never use that body again. Can you do it? Consider the generation yet unborn and what he would do to them. Remember what he did to you, would you allow him to do it to another?"

The world was strangely still in the aftermath of the fight. The ground bore the scars of their battle, claw marks etched into the stone, and the scent of blood—sharp and metallic—hung heavy in the air. Diva stood over Ronan, her chest heaving, golden eyes glowing with a flicker of her beast still pulsing beneath her skin. Her claws were out, bloodied, her body trembling not with weakness, but the force of what had just happened.

The wind howled violently, scratching at my throat until I felt an itch that seemed to make me want to cough. "Enough talking. Choose, or I'll let them both go." At Amber's signal, the men next to us hoisted both me and Tara up. The salty sea breeze hit me in the face, and the sharp smell of ocean water churned my stomach. However, nothing compared to the screaming in my ears. Before I could even draw a breath, Ethan had already made his choice. At that moment, everything went silent. Amber instinctively turned to look at me. My vision flickered and spots of black clouded my sight, but I did not know why.

The thick, dark primordial blood of a century-old vampire welled from the deep cut. "Drink, Brynn," Riheirk commanded, his voice raw and desperate as he pressed his bleeding wrist firmly against her lips. "Drink from me. Let my blood purge the poison. Accept it, sweetheart, please." Brynn’s jade eyes flickered. Driven by her own fading strength and the desperate, triumphant internal screaming of Solar, her jaw parted. She bit down lightly on his wrist, her lips drawing the heavy, white-hot furnace of his primordial blood into her system.

Ray replied and tightened his grip over the orb. “Do you think they would have noticed by now? That Ares is dead?” Mane wondered, swaying from the subject. “They should have. After all, Olympus has its way. Like Asgard’s Black Book, Olympus has its own method. It’s just a bit…flashier.” “I wish I was there to see it though,” Ray suddenly added. “See what?” Mane couldn’t help but wonder. “Perseus face,” Ray grinned, his eyes flashing coldly.