Blood Of The Daedra นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Eirlys POV: My heart nearly stopped dead in my chest. “What is that?” I whispered, staring at the glowing thing. Rhydian looked up at me from where he knelt. “The Bloodstone.” “I’ve never heard of it,” I said. “You weren’t supposed to,” he replied simply. His gaze shifted toward the hallway where Auren was standing. “It only responds to descendants of House Drakhar.” My stomach dropped like a rock. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I said, feeling the exhaustion of the Roar pulling at my marrow. "Then we do it together," Eryx said, standing up and reaching for his broadsword. The crimson fire erupted from the steel once more, fueled by the child’s proximity. "The Blood of the North and the Fire of the South. We are the forge, Darlene." We stood at the center of the lake bed—the mother, the father, and the King-Born child. We formed a circle of light as Jackson’s shadow-hand descended toward us, a mountain of obsidian death.

He then helps Ellie to her feet. "Now tell me, how did this happen?" Lochness questions. "Valdis betrayed the horde by allying with the elder dragon Sixten. Sixten wishes to take over the northern lands and rebuild the lost kingdom of Highmire," Ellie informs them. Lochness and Vesla's eyes both go wide with shock. "Sixten, that bastard," Lochness mumbles out. "I thought Sixten was dead," Vesla says in shock. "As did I," Lochness replies.

It was definitely eight AM. Usually, breakfast would have been brought to me at this time but nothing. Maybe Hilra was running late. No pressure anyway. I was determined to make today a good day. Some minutes passed and still no one came for me. I stole the opportunity to keep reading my book till I would be interrupted. The next page was on the first Aspenian war, which caused the Townsend to share their gifts with outsiders. It was then that they discovered Hecate could enchant a blade and it can be used to share genetics from just a simple cut, instead of losing pints for the exchange.

Draegon smiled. He withdrew a dagger, the blade black as night, coated in a pulsing crimson substance. Bloodbane. The forbidden mixture only Bloodfang dared use. A poison. A stimulant. A curse. “Awaken,” Draegon whispered. He sliced his palm with the blade, letting blood drip onto the floor. Immediately, the Ravagers stirred. Chains clattered. Breathing intensified. Growls thundered through the chamber.

Dax was Darryl's sworn brother, so why should Skylar save him without a good reason? He would not soften his heart even when Debra had already agreed to his terms. The plan he came up with was very insidious. On the surface, Dax would look fine once he had taken the blood with the Soul-devouring Bloodworm, but he would be under Skylar's control. "Oh, thank you, thank you!" Overjoyed, Debra quickly stood up and took the jade vial from his hand. Then she opened it and saw that it was filled with blood, giving off a metallic odor. It must have been freshly extracted from Skylar's veins.

“I came because I have no choice. My mate is changing. I’ve seen visions of fire and chains. I need to understand what’s happening before it’s too late.” Aldric looked at her for a long time before standing. “So the curse stirs again.” “You know about it,” she said. “I served the old king,” Aldric replied. “Draven’s grandfather. I witnessed the last Blood Moon that nearly destroyed Drukbane. The same blood flows through your mate’s veins. The divine blood of the first Alpha.” Liora frowned. “Divine blood?”

The wall groaned, then split open. Kael exhaled. “The underrealm.” “Not yet. This is just the gate,” Elara murmured. Behind them, Dain arrived—his cloak already dusted with ash, his eyes sharp. “I brought the blood stone,” he said, tossing her the vial. It glowed a deep crimson. “It belonged to your father. It’s part of the spell.” Elara caught it, her heart catching in her throat. Her father. Another ghost. They stood before the swirling blackness that lay beyond the broken seal. It wasn’t a doorway—it was a wound in the world. The air vibrated with unspoken voices.

“Or perhaps… a warden, and afterwards she refined them.” A chill moved down my spine. “Refined from what?” I asked quietly. Cian’s gaze flicked to the window, where pale daylight filtered through. “Something older. Wilder. Unstructured.” My heart beat harder, “The Lost Bloodline.” His silence was enough confirmation. “In the fragments that survived,” he continued carefully, “there are references to cycles, to an age before the Moon’s dominion, when power was not centralized.” “Centralized?” I echoed.

I asked. "Dhampire? Oh, it's not a word, it's a name, referring to the children who are born from a vampire and a human. It's retrieved from the Balkan language. If the child is a boy, they call it 'Dhmapire', if it's a girl, 'Dhampiresa'. Based on their folklore, a dhampire is said to be extremely filthy, he or she has either a snub nose, like a bat or worse, no nose at all," Cammie paused for a break and took a sip of her fruit drink then she continued. "And in the Bulgarian legends, folklore has it that a dhampire must also feed on human blood to sustain its existence. In Serbian tales, the dhampire has an oversized head and a small body with no shadow. Other myths say that those dhampire