Blood Of The Samurai Novels & Stories

Releasing all that I had ever felt towards Sam in this moment, I shake my head violently and embed my teeth further into his flesh—biting down until the canines of my teeth brush against one another, ruthlessly tearing into Sam’s delicate skin while he wails in protest. Amidst his frantic attack, he drops the ivory dagger as if it were now the least of his concerns - swinging feeble fleeting punches, fighting for his life as his end looms this very way. As the crimson blood spills from my clenched mouth and races down the side of my chin, the strong taste of iron hits me all at once before drowning out all of my senses, causing me to almost gag on the thick fluid. Unable to hold it in any lo

The scent of blood and silver filled the air as lashes of silver chains struck her already torn back again and again. Each strike drew a scream that echoed through the corridors, reaching even the guards stationed above. “Speak!” one of the warriors demanded, grabbing Samantha by the hair. But she only spat blood and laughed weakly through her pain. “You think pain will make me talk?” she sneered. “You have no idea what true pain is.” The warrior’s eyes narrowed and brought the chain down again, harder this time. The dungeon floor ran with blood, and yet Samantha still refused to yield, her lips curling into a twisted smile through her agony.

“Ryden just told me that I’m an abomination, a destroyer of the world.” “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Samarah spoke again. “And you do?” I snorted. “Do tell me, Samarah, at least before you die. Let the truth out. Be useful.” “Your blood is the only thing that can destroy the book.” “Wow.” I rolled my eyes. “It all started with my fucking blood, and it’s the only one that can destroy everything. That’s fucking amazing, don’t you think?”

The golden-blue runes along the blade flared brilliantly, casting a stark, commanding light across the dark trees. ​The mercenaries panicked, scrambling for their weapons, but Dave’s vanguard closed the trap from all sides with ruthless, disciplined efficiency. Two outlaws lunged at Dave with spiked iron clubs, but with a swift, calculated pivot, Dave used the flat of his broadsword to disarm them, sending both men crashing hard into the dirt.

Sam growled between thrusts, his sweat mingling with the symbolic blood that had sealed their pact of sovereignty. The scene reached a climax that transcended the physical. It was a demonstration of supernatural power in which Adreas’s marking seemed to expand Sam’s aura, making him stronger, wilder, and—paradoxically—more focused. The pack recoiled, lowering their heads in an involuntary sign of respect. They no longer saw a human and a wolf; they saw a new kind of authority, rooted in endless desire and blood loyalty.

Her hair was pulled into a tight braid, exposing the hard line of her jaw. A Sig Sauer rested in the holster at her hip. She didn’t look like a Don’s sister. She looked like a soldier waiting for permission to execute someone. “Blood is blood, Millaray,” I said calmly. “In my father’s house, we washed it off the driveway before breakfast.” A bitter laugh escaped her. “Your father’s house is a pile of cold ash in Barrio Italia.” She stepped closer. “And yet you stand here, breathing our air, eating our bread, waiting like a spider while my brother bleeds himself dry trying to keep you safe.”

“The fate thread chooses you, and now, it is passing its powers into you, Luna of the Silver Crescent.” The braid of hair shone golden around Samantha’s wrist, and Devon and Diana gasped as they watched golden ink appear from her forearm like a gilded tattoo of the insignia of the Royal Clan of the Primordial Blood. I froze as I watched because it just confirmed everything—that Samantha was indeed from that rare bloodline. It made me wonder what my council’s reaction would be once they learned about Samantha’s origin. What she really was.

he adds, licking his lips with his disgusting snake tongue. Now, I can't help the shudder that leaves me. Samirah wraps an orange band around my arm and feels for a vein. When she finds one she's satisfied with, she gets out the needle and gently pokes it into the vein. She takes a couple vials of blood before Amon hands her...a teacup. I continue to fight back the tears as she screws the part at the end of the little tube, and my blood freely flows into the cup. She only stops when it's damn near spilling over. She hands it back to Amon, takes a piece of gauze, pulls the needle out of my arm, and puts a bandage over the top.

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.

“No one is blaming you, we’re just complaining is all. And now that everything went to hell, we won’t even get the second half of our payment. And with how bad the slave trade is here in this country, we can’t even sell that bitch for much.” They all turned back and looked at me for a second, glaring at how hard I was struggling to keep up, before turning forward again. I sighed in relief as I had just wiped a handful of blood against a tree and hoped no one had noticed. The cut I made on my palm was already starting to pool some more, readying for the next target. With how much pain I was in, and how weak and dizzy I felt, having a clear objective was about the only thing keeping me going.