Blood On Satan's Claw Novels & Stories

I blurt out. Slowly, vibrant green eyes lock with mine, “You have no idea,” he grins, flicking out his index finger. A claw sprouted from the tip, and he dragged the sharp point along my throat, resting the digit just above my pulse point. My breath hitched when he pierced my skin. “But not in the way that you are thinking, sweet, little mate.” Nero lifted his hand, admiring the bright, crimson bead of blood that gathered on the pointed tip of his claw, “The urge to mark you as mine is almost too much to bear.”

*Lyra* The hall reeks of blood and traces of wolfsbane smoke. My claws ache, every muscle trembling from the strain, and my lungs burn with every ragged breath I pull in. The stone floor is slick beneath my paws, streaked with blood and clumps of torn fur. The coppery tang of it clings to the air.

Serena stood at the end of the metal table, heart hammering as the sheet was pulled back. Clara’s face was pale, her lips tinged blue, eyes shut as if still mid-sentence. Her throat had been torn cleanly from left to right, and the skin around her wrist was singed with a circular sigil a crescent moon pierced by a jagged slash. It wasn’t a wolf clan mark. It wasn’t vampire either. It was something else. Something… older. Serena didn’t return to the office. Instead, she went straight to Clara’s room. The building was still under police lockdown, but she flashed her credentials and pushed past the yellow tape.

'It's the only way. "Fine," I snapped, grabbing a clean knife from the kitchen. "But we do this my way." I cut my palm, letting the blood drip into the herbal mixture. The moment it touched the surface, the liquid began to glow with a faint silver light. *Just like that night, when my blood had glowed silver in the moonlight as it soaked into the earth.* A sharp knock at the door made me jump. On the other side, I could smell wolf—Silver Claw.

" She stormed away, her footsteps fading into the distance. Rough hands grabbed my hair, yanking me upward. I screamed, my voice breaking into hoarse cries as my throat burned. My body dragged along the forest floor, the dry branches scratching my skin raw. Just as I was about to give up, the sound of heavy footsteps rushing toward us froze everyone in place. I lifted my head, my tear-blurred eyes focusing on the approaching shadows. Red eyes. Glowing red eyes. Not one, but several. They lunged, claws gleaming in the faint light as they tore into the guards. Blood sprayed in every direction as the men screamed, their bodies crumpling like broken dolls.

“Let’s begin now.” “Alright, let’s get started,” Demetria replied. She raised her head and looked at the precious stone floating in the air. “Please release your tentacles, Clarice is ready to give you a blood offering tonight,” she informed the core. Clarice watched the core release the tentacles, gradually descending, attaching to her arms like tiny needles. Her eyes widened with fear. She winced when the tentacles began sucking on her blood. Demetria patted Clarice’s hands, calming her. “Relax dear. You will get used to it one day.”

But what made Clara’s blood run completely cold was the colour of the fluid that dripped from its deep, jagged claw wounds. It wasn't red blood. It was a glowing, luminescent obsidian liquid—the unmistakable mark of the Forbidden Lycan lines. The dying white wolf raised its head, its pale blue eyes locking onto Clara’s pregnant belly, before letting out a low, agonising whine that echoed through the dark night.

He stands to leave. At the door, he pauses. "I will check on you later," he says over his shoulder. After he leaves, I move to the desk and pull the curtains open. A majestic view fills my sight. I see a massive ancient castle-like structure rising from the mountainside. It looks like a kingdom, or a prison. On the desk before me lies a document. Rules and Regulations for Maya Reynolds. I sigh. I open the first page. I have so many questions. And what the hell is a Bloodmoon Pack?

Eden - or the black-haired apprentice wizard who was trying his best to coddle his brother - automatically shook his finger and charmed a few Clean spells on the floor before Balan forced him to do this. He groused: "I didn't write it on the test!" The First Blood fang of a vampire was the fang that fell out after they reach adulthood. It was very soft but had a wonderful protective effect - especially when it had a little bit of magic of elf - and was extremely, extremely, extremely sensitive to magical rituals involving blood. Balan sincerely prayed to all the gods that had ever been in the world that that young fang - damn it, he was infected with Eden's word habit - would be able to prot

His voice itself seemed to carry sword intent! Next, an unremarkable sword aura emerged from the Heaven and Earth Sword, stabbing directly at the sloppy swordsman. The sloppy swordsman made no resistance as his head fell to the ground without a drop of blood. Then, his body slowly collapsed. Only then did everyone realize the blood on Clive was black. In other words, all that blood belonged to the sloppy swordsman. Remnants of tentacles were scattered around. They were the pieces and segments that Clive had severed. Looking at this hellish scene, Rania was stunned. Ignoring the blood and filth, she quickly ran up and embraced Clive.