Blood On Ice Skyrim Novels & Stories

Blood soaked through Jax’s shirt in a dark, spreading stain as he staggered into the motel room, one hand pressed tightly against his shoulder. The sniper’s bullet had only grazed him, but the wound still bled freely, turning his fingers crimson. Elara’s heart slammed against her ribs at the sight. She rushed forward, catching him before he could collapse, her hands trembling as they met warm, sticky blood.

She held her hand over the cold basin, letting three drops of her thick, silver-tinted blood fall onto the frozen stone. ​The glacier groaned. ​A sudden, high-pitched ringing sound filled the air as the three drops of blood hissed against the ice. Instead of freezing, the blood turned into liquid silver light, racing up the veins of the glacier like water down a parched root. The massive wall of blue ice did not shatter... instead it dissolved the solid frozen water misting outward in a warm, fragrant cloud of winter pine and ancient starlight. ​"The gate is open."

Julian’s POV An overpowering stench of blood, mixed with the minus-thirty-degree aura of death, rushed at my face. I stopped dead in my tracks. Inside, the chilling crimson ice flowers almost completely covered the frozen corner. In the corner lay the ashes of the thermal blanket I ordered burned. And in the center of this frozen blood, lay a stark, sickening pool of black blood. That was the dead blood a human mother bleeds only when she is drained of her life force from failing to gestate a vampire.

Or I haven’t met any of his fighters because the battlefield is so vast? After a dozen more kills, we have to look for an enemy wolf to attack. We have to get back to the middle of the fight. None of my wounds are healing quickly enough because of the silver still in my bloodstream. I’m limping, and the area around the bullet wound is numb. Blood is oozing from the bite and claw wounds that already should’ve been closed. I take a huge sniff. The scent of melting snow and blood overwhelms everything, so I follow my ears.

“I will save him!” “You can't even save yourself!” He shouts after her, as she gets herself and Owen to the door. When she passes through it, she falls into freezing wet snow. Looking around, she sees red snow surrounding her and the room is gone. Nothing but darkness, trees and snow. When she picks up some snow in her hand, it melts into blood, running through her fingers. She gasps and drops the handful. Why is the snow bloody? Looking at Owen, she sees that he is still bleeding, but that doesn't explain all the blood. When she looks around her once more, she notices the bodies.

"Drink, or you die." Vardan pressed his forcibly torn wrist against Sora’s deathly pale lips. The thick, hot, metallic-smelling crimson fluid immediately flooded Sora’s mouth. The heavy iron taste and the sticky texture of the blood triggered violent nausea at the back of his throat. They were trapped inside an ancient stone building hidden in the heart of a frozen pine forest. Outside, the night wind battered the stone walls roughly, carrying the scent of damp earth and the snow ready to fall and bury their tracks.

The ribs part like curtains. Inside: a cathedral of frozen blood and candlelight. In the center, suspended in a sphere of black ice, float three perfect crown shards—pulsing like dying hearts. I step forward and speak the softest, cruelest word I own now: Thaw. The ice explodes into harmless steam. The shards scream (literally) as they tear free and slam into my bloodstone in a triple flash of crimson lightning. Crown HUD: 38 / 47 → 41 / 47

Fresh and hot– “Skye! Skye, Gods, look at me–” There’s another body on the ice. A young woman, I think, judging by the thickness and length of her hair, but I can’t make out the color because of the blood. It’s everywhere. There’s so much of it. “Is this what you’re talking about? Your bracelet?” A shadow rises over the body–cloaked in black. Red eyes meet mine and hold. “Skye?” “Run.”

But right now, my main focus was reaching the cellar, where a combination of musky air and the metallic tang of blood greeted me. As I enter the room, the coppery smell of blood hits me like a wall. The floor is slick with it, and I struggle to keep my feet steady as I approach Cal’s limp body. His breathing is shallow as I leave footprints along the floor, making my way over to him. “Cal?” My voice is barely a whisper, but he doesn’t respond. I focus my magic, calling for bandages to wrap around his wrists where he has been bleeding profusely. The white fabric materialises in my hands as I frantically wrap his wrists, but it quickly becomes saturated with deep red stains. I keep wrapping, h

The Blood Moon hung high in the sky, casting its malevolent red glow over the kingdom, a harbinger of the chaos that was about to unfold. Sienna stood on the edge of the palace courtyard, her heart pounding in her chest. Her silver blood, still fresh on her hands from the confrontation with Ryder, glistened in the dim light. It was strange, the sensation of her blood coursing through her body felt different now, as if every drop pulsed with a strange, ancient energy. The prophecy, the weight of it, gnawed at her mind, urging her to take action.