Blood Of Olympus Kindle Novels & Stories

Her feet carried her down halls she wasn’t meant to know, guided by something between instinct and defiance. She reached the tower. The door was unlocked. That terrified her more than if it had been sealed. Inside, stairs spiraled upward. She climbed. Each step felt like crossing into something that didn’t belong to her. At the top was a single room. In the center stood a table. On it lay a book bound in dark red velvet. The Velvet Oath. Her hands trembled as she touched it. The cover felt warm. She opened it. The pages were not stories.

Davorin said simply. I wasn’t sure if that was comforting or terrifying. We stepped onto a narrow path, the portal’s glow had completely faded behind us. My chest tightened at the thought, no way back. Not unless someone here let me. A shadow appeared ahead. Something, no, someone stepped into view. She was tall and willowy, with hair the color of fresh blood spilling down her back. Her eyes glowed faintly silver, and her smile… well, it showed just too many teeth.

The Divine Heir of Olympus had long been on his must-kill list. Traitors to humankind like the Olympian Army had ravaged the native creatures of the universe at the end of ancient times. Now they were making a comeback by resurrecting themselves with the spiritual energy on Earth. When all kinds of opportunities were about to burst out, they would be back again. While they were talking, the door of the room that they were in was forcefully pushed open, and a figure rushed in like lightning. The figure fell into Alex’s arms and held his face before kissing him deeply.

She gasped, her hands flying to her chest, and looked down to see a faint silver glow emanating from beneath her skin, pulsing in time with her heartbeat. "Helena," Elara breathed, her voice filled with awe and terror. "What's happening to me?" The healer's eyes were wide, her expression a mixture of shock and vindication. "Your bloodline is awakening," Helena whispered. "Moon Goddess above, I was right. You're not just an omega, Elara. You're a Moon Omega. One of the last of your kind." The glow intensified, spreading from Elara's chest down her arms and into her belly, where it pulsed brighter, stronger, as if the baby inside her was responding to the power, amplifying it. Elara felt a sur

He charged towards Aaron, even willed his half-bloods to go after him, but he didn’t make it far when a thunderous voice boomed. “Where do you think you are going?” she drawled. He tried to move, but he couldn’t. The demigod roared, a sound of rage and dawning fear as Ophelia’s body pulled at him-his power, his essence, the very divinity that had fueled him since the dawn of time. He struggled trying to draw from the blood moon, but it was futile. Her power was absolute. The blood moon had almost completely vanished from the sky; better yet, Ophelia had almost completely absorbed the blood moon from the sky.

The touch. I pressed my hand against my knee and looked at my palm. Nothing there. No mark, nothing visible. But I had felt it, the second his hand landed on my shoulder, something moving through the point of contact like a current, like something recognising something, and it had startled me so badly I had almost stepped back. It was the blood magic. It had to be the blood magic. I was freshly made and unstable and a working that large and that recent would produce side effects, sensitivity, misfiring responses to contact. That was what it was. That was the only thing it was.

After waking up, she was told that her blood had always been a mixture of black and red. “Since you were bleeding at that time, there were traces of your blood left in the trap and because I tried getting you out of it I was also injured and some of my blood was on the trap too. Oizys was the one who had set the trap as she had been told by one of her spies that we were going to the forest for hunting. She later got hold of both my blood since you have darkness in you, most of the time when black blood is shed off, it doesn’t dry up like the rest. Instead when it mixes with air, it becomes a sort of wind making a black ghost puppet. As for her, she also has black blood. I don’t know how she

“There’s something I need to show you.” Alice frowned as Mira pulled out a small, leather-bound book, its edges worn and stained. She handed it to Alice, her fingers brushing hers—warm, too warm. “My family’s kept this for years. It’s… history. About the packs.” Alice opened it, her hands shaky. The pages were old, filled with cramped writing and strange symbols—circles, crescents, claws. One word jumped out: Hybrid. Her stomach twisted as she read a line: Born of man and moon, the one who carries both bloods shall break or bind the packs.

A wince from the little girl’s mouth let her know that she might have cut too deep but there was no longer time to dwell on that. She clasped her bleeding palm against her child’s own the blood mixing like a light coat of honey but rather a crimson color. “Of my desire I give you my soul. Of my will I give you my blood. Of my choice I give you my life, take this part of me and be whole. May the gods approve of this trade” She held it there for a few minutes, having what might be the last feel of her daughter and then she went towards the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the room. She was washing down her hands and the sharp tool that had just seared layers of her skin.

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.