Blood On The River Book Novels & Stories

My hands were shaky or maybe I was the one wobbly. I feel blood slowly run out of my nose like I was an active volcanic mountain, erupting molten lava, bit by bit. In This case, my body was the mountain, and my nose was the vent from which thick blood spilled out. I cleaned them up some more, with my hands. It made it a whole lot messier, the blood was now spread on my nose and mouth region. Blood ran down my nose, staining my mouth, and droplets of blood were on my lab cloth. All that had happened now had drawn the attention of the kids by my side.

*Aloria* I’m trembling as I kneel beside River, my heart pounding in my chest, a mis of the fight and the adrenaline still cursing through me. The clearing feels surreal and heavy, the aftermath of our confrontation with the prince wrapping around us like a suffocating fog. River lies unconscious, his face pale against the rich, dark earth. Panic bubbles inside me, threatening to spill over. “Stay with me, River!” I whisper fiercely, but he doesn’t respond. I can’t lose him… not after everything we’ve fought for.

“Quick. Come with me, run!” Meanwhile, in the blood river, water pillars rushed toward the sky. A mighty, booming voice could be heard from afar. “Hmm. I can finally see daylight again. To thank you, I’ll suck all your blood, flesh, and souls. You’ll always be with me. Hahaha!”

Perhaps it's effect is only mild. She poured a little of the blood in an empty glass she found on the table, then she added just a little ash and stirred. She frowned when nothing happened. Was the book wrong? If the book was wrong, the book wouldn't be restricted. She then added a little more ash, and the the blood began to foam. Interesting. She watched it closely, taking note of every single change. By the time the blood stopped foaming, it had turned black. She smiled. Now she wondered if this would work on the royal vampires. If only she could get their blood.

The pages of the book began to fill. --- The words that appeared were not written in any language Darren recognized, and yet somehow he understood them anyway, the meaning settling into his mind the way memory does, sudden and complete. He read of the night his grandfather died. He read of the attack that had torn through River Shine's borders, the screaming, the fire, the desperate defense that had cost so many lives before it was over. He read of a boy, ten years old, standing over his grandfather's body with blood on his hands that wasn't his own, his wolf tearing free for the first time in a burst of power no child should have been capable of surviving.

With love, Calla Loren River – POV When I held her book in my hands for the first time, something strange happened. I didn’t feel old. I didn’t feel replaced. I felt home. Because her voice didn’t cancel mine—it continued it. And that’s what stories do when they’re loved well. They echo. James – POV “Do you think Rachel would be proud?” I asked River as we walked home that night. River looked up at the stars. “I don’t know,” they said softly. “But I think she’d be quiet.” “Why?” “Because sometimes pride is too big for words.”

River immediately froze as he watched me descend from the stairs with a fountain pen pressed against my jugular. When I saw fear dancing in his eyes, I knew I had him. “What the fuck do you think you're doing?” he growled, clearly distressed. “Put down the pen, Aqua.” “A life for a life,” I said. When River didn't respond, I feared he didn't take my bluff, so I forced myself to go an extra mile. His eyes widened at the sight of blood trickling down my neck as I increased the pressure on the fountain pen.

Flavius wades through the crowd of dragons until he comes upon a SpitFire much smaller than the rest. Her scales are a brilliant lilac compared to the deep violet of the other SpitFires. She slowly approaches Flavius sniffing his outstretched hand. Flavius uncurls his fingers, reaching for her head. In one swift movement, her jaws snap down on Flavius's hand. He lets out a yelp of surprise but does not try to pull his hand away. Blood drips from the mouth of the small SpitFire. She makes no move to rip Flavius's arm off, which is a good sign.

She choked on her own blood as it bubbled up out of her mouth, running down her chin in thin crimson lines, and finally, as I experienced in so many fantasies, the life in River's eyes slowly began to fade, her void-of-life head lolling to the side. I fell back on my heels, brought my hands to my face - stained with River's blood - and sobbed.

he asked. I nodded with a smile, then took another sip. "Sharon made it." River cracked a grin. He then took his share, sipping quite a lot. "Not bad," he commented. I shook my head and walked over to the small shelf above the fireplace. My fingers sorted through the books until they settled on an orange-covered book with the words XXX XXX XXX written on it. I bring it back to the sofa, keeping River company as he returns to his tablet. A few minutes later, our cups were empty, and my heart was suddenly beating faster than it should. I put the book down on my lap, then looked up at River, who I could tell from the look on his face that he was also feeling strange in his body.