Blood Over Bright Haven Fanart Novels & Stories

But I just could not help it any longer, being face to face with a wolf had everything flooding into my brain, and I wanted to scream my lungs out. Blood. It was blood that I saw. My parents' blood, spilled on the wooden floor around their heads. I saw their lifeless eyes and still bodies, and wounded faces. I saw my eleven year old self crying and screaming for them to wake up and look at me again, to call me their baby again. But that did not happen, it never happened. And I saw the people that had done that to them, their smug faces and crooked smirks, their hands stained with the blood of my parents, and the set of tattoos on one of their forearms.

Without saying a word she opens the door allowing a boy to walk in and my breath nearly catches in my throat when his blue eyes land on me. Jaxson Ravenwood. Classmate, shifter, and future Alpha of the North American pack. His white blonde hair falls messily over his icy blue eyes. He's more muscular than your average shifter and even I can't help but admire him. I feel something, I can't quite tell what it is, stir inside me and I instantly get one of my famous migraines as he flashes Ms. Foster a killer smile.

“If that light goes out, so do I.” For a heartbeat she didn’t move. Then, softly: “Then stay close.” The words hung between them, fragile as the air they shared. Somewhere deep below, the Cradle’s pulse quickened—as if amused by their defiance, or moved by it. Above the metallic tree, a single leaf detached and drifted down. When it hit the ground, it melted into light, leaving behind a faint symbol scorched into the stone: a sparrow. Zevran saw it first. “Our friend again.”

he warned. Day Two: Achi lost consciousness during training. When he woke, his eyes were pitch black, and his voice echoed like two beings speaking at once. “He’s merging,” Marcus whispered. “With what?” Ava asked. He didn’t answer. Day Three: Ava saw her mother again—this time not in a vision, but in a dream too vivid to be false. “When the Blood Moon rises, you will either become her… or end everything,” her mother said before fading into mist.

Jonah’s still at the table, drawing now instead of eating, his pencil moving in quick strokes across the page. I sit there with him for a few more minutes, neither of us saying anything, just existing in the same space while Mara’s music pounds through the walls from her room. Then he turns it around so I can see. I go still. It’s a drawing of a car. Not just any car. Two cars, actually, twisted together in the middle of the page like they’ve collided, metal crumpled and glass scattered everywhere. The lines are dark and heavy, pressed so hard into the paper in some places that it’s torn through.

Blood poured down her skin. The Alpha froze. His face twisted in horror as he stumbled back, clutching his head and screaming like something was tearing him apart from the inside. The entire ring went silent. Bella stood shaking, blood dripping onto the dirt. “What’s wrong with him?” she demanded. No one answered. Then the air shifted. The bond snapped tight. Jake stepped into the ring. The feral Alpha backed away immediately. Jake’s eyes locked on Bella’s bleeding arm. Something dark crossed his face.

“Greg, Cameron and I need blood, a lot of it, vampire and human.” “Right,” she shoved some plastic bags of blood at him. “These are freshly collected. Human and Mer. Vampire is in high demand, but I’ll try to find someone. The zombies sometimes get the better of the Mer and get a bite in. The vampires are treating them. I’m taking blood from anyone I can. Vampires need to be fed to recover.” “Who painted the hospital?” Talen wondered. “I did,” Delwyn approached them. “It came to me in a dream. From the mother, I believe. Here, Thaelen, drink from me. You are hurt.”

However, underneath that sadistic amusement was a much deeper emotion, charged with indescribable sorrow. He looked away from the two younger women and studied Hannah's expression instead. The base color of the artwork he had given Hannah was dark, and the blotches of black paint on the canvas felt almost oppressing. They were like storm clouds in the sky just before a thunderstorm. Dark brush strokes revealed a setting sun on the horizon. The sun was a deep crimson, and it looked like the color of blood. There was also a field painted in the artwork, and a singular metal cage was on that field.

Darren exited the prison cell and ordered the soldiers to continue the whipping work. Darren stood in front of the frowning Vander. "Brother, scratch my right hand." He passed the knife to Vander. Vander glared. He had no heart to scratch the knife into his brother's body. Even though Darren sucks, Darren is his younger brother. "I don't want to." Nancy clicked her tongue. "I'll do it." Noura chuckled. "Don't scrape the vein, Nancy." "I couldn't have killed him." Nancy scraped Darren's palm with a knife. "Half-blood has a different blood." Nancy was surprised to see Darren's black blood color with reddish spots. Nancy put the knife back in Darren's shirt pocket.