Blood Rain Book Novels & Stories

"That mark belongs to me." She stepped back, blade raised again. "You're lying." He took a slow step forward, his eyes glowing brighter. "I wish I were." Before she could react, the sky darkened. Dozens of crows rose from the trees at once, shrieking and circling above them. The air grew heavy, the ground trembling under her boots. Kael looked up at the sky. "The Bloodbound has awakened." Seraphina didn't understand what he meant-she only knew one thing.

The place smelt clean and fresh, but there was this echo of filth, and blood, and gore that came back to me and refused to go way. I closed my eyes for a moment, but realised my mistake instantly as all I could see and hear was the screams of Tamarak as he was being skinned alive, the gurgles of the man’s throat I cut, the plop, plop of body part falling down, and the warmth of the gore hitting my skin. I jerk uncontrollably, trying to wipe away the phantom filth off of me. I knew it wasn’t there, my brain knew, but it didn’t want to believe.

he linked back. Picking up Ayla was easier than Maize expected, she was so light and small. And despite being covered in mud, her scent was so sweet. “Is she going to be alright,” a girl of about ten asked, her wiping her nose. “There’s so much blood coming out of her head.” “She’ll be fine, I promise,” Maize lied, smiling at her. It was only then that Maize realized how much badly Ayla was bleeding. It was also then that Maize realized that Ayla wasn’t unconscious, and her slurred words could just barely be heard.

There was no time for anybody to stand and stare at Azael because a thick scarlet liquid began to drop from the sky before anyone could respond Cindy, Bryan, and Charles understood that damage had already been done, and no one dared to confront Azael. Bryan wiped the dab of blood from his brow. They were all saturated in a crimson liquid that poured from the sky and looked disgusting. "Its raining blood," Bryan said after sniffing it, and everyone made horrified expressions as they sought to get it out of their bodies, but the more they struggled, the more it poured upon those people.

As if I had been nothing more than a brief, insignificant pause in her day. I stepped outside, exhaling sharply. How did people survive in that atmosphere? And why did I feel like I had just walked into something much bigger, dangerous than I realized? In case you're wondering who Aurora is, she is the main character from the book Blood Hearts. If you haven't read it feel free to check it out. And you don't have to read it to understand this book and vice-versa Hope you're enjoying the story Vote and comment.❤

I thought of the world that was currently waking up to a silence it didn’t understand. But as I felt that tiny, second heartbeat pulse against my palm, I didn’t feel like a fugitive. I didn’t feel like a victim of a global conspiracy. I felt like an Architect. The first book was about the blood. It was about the betrayal and the breaking of the old world. It was about the trauma of the glass and the roar of the mountain. But the second book? The one we were starting right now, in this quiet French valley? That book was going to be about the Home.

Tears rolled down my cheeks, I was not only scared for myself that I had handed my heart over to this man, I was also scared for his people, I needed to know what inspired such hatred to murder his people. “You want to know the truth? I will tell you.” He strolled from the throne towards me, “The world I told that was built by me and my two friends, these people are the descendants. We made a blood covenant that whichever one of us dies first, our power should be given to the next who was alive to maintain the balance of the park for greater good. Their fathers saw us as a threat and opted to end our lives. For each one they killed, their powers were absorbed into my blood, the same blood I

I exhale loudly and make to snap the book shut but the sharp end prick my finger. With a hiss under my breath, I press my finger tightly as tiny drops of blood trickles down. The blood drops on the page and like a mystery, words begin to form, unraveling themselves. I watch with shock, my heart pounding against my ribcage at the swirling letters that aren't there before. As soon as it starts, the strokes end. I glance warily at my finger which has healed instantly and with my pulse spiking, I read the words; ‘Rare is the blood born beneath the crimson gaze of the moon,

“My name is Rain.” My heart dropped, and all color drained from my face. “Rain--- Blood?!” I asked in utter disbelief. THIS man was the infamous Rain Blood. The insane rogue that delighted in the gore and pain of pack mate and enemy alike?! He nodded, making a shiver of fear travel down my spine. “What do you want with me?” I asked, my voice suddenly hoarse. The man was notorious for messing with his enemies' heads – before ripping them to shreds, that is. There couldn’t be a single good reason for him to keep me alive.

Too much fire and not enough air. She sat in her study, lights dim, the rain still tapping against the old glass. Before her lay a blank leather-bound book. She dipped the pen in ink, then paused. She wrote: For my son. “The world you inherit is broken. You are not born to fix it. You are born to survive it. This is not a cradle song. This is a manual of war.” She titled the first page: THE BOOK OF BLOOD She stopped. Closed her eyes. Listened to the wind.