Blood Sweat Respect Novels & Stories

I said, my voice rough from the morning chill, a bit of sweat is good for me. We didn't stop doing it until the sun finally broke through the fog, spilling light over the camp. Around us, the warriors trained in pairs, sweat, dirt, and the sound of fists hitting wood and flesh. The air reeked of effort, but it was what I wanted, focus. The Discipline in a fight. Beta Kael straightened, wiping blood from his lip. "You've pushed them harder than usual today Alpha," he remarked, his tone carrying both respect and concern towards me and our warriors.

Rossa smiled again as she looked at her friend. After Ema left, the small room became quiet once more. Rossa slowly tried to sit up and stand. Her body immediately trembled from the lingering pain. Her clothes were already stained with blood and dirt. Holding her breath, she slowly began removing her clothes. And that was when— she saw her own body. Covered in dog bite wounds. Her shoulders. Her arms. Her back. Her waist. There was barely any part of her body that was truly unharmed.

The Blood-Rain was not a metaphor. It was a physical corruption, a heavy, metallic downpour that stained the world a deep, visceral crimson. As the ten thousand newly awakened Hallowed warriors marched out of the Silver Mines, the sky seemed to be hemorrhaging. Each drop that landed on the skin felt like a needle-prick of sorrow, a cold, cloying reminder of the lives Selene had sacrificed to fuel her ascension.

Declan stands motionless by the floor-to-ceiling window, the neon glow of the city bleeding across the hardwood like liquid gold, painting his silhouette in flickering light. His shirt hangs loose, the fabric clinging to the damp heat of his skin, sleeves pushed up to reveal the corded muscle of his forearms. The faintest sheen of sweat glistens along his collarbone, catching the light as his chest rises and falls with controlled restraint. His jaw is set, a muscle ticking beneath the stubble, his shoulders taut with something raw and unspoken. I can see the pulse hammering at the base of his throat, the way his fingers flex at his sides, as if fighting the urge to reach for me.

Pain spread throughout his body. Pain filled every nerve in his body. If it was an ordinary person, they would probably have already roared to vent their pain. But Samuel didn't. He gritted his teeth and held on. The bean-sized beads of sweat soaked his whole body, mixed with the black poisonous sweat, making it impossible for you to tell whether it was because of the poison or because he sweated too much because of the pain. He felt that he was a little exhausted.

I do have a goal to reach but if an event like that occurred I don't hesitate or back down either. I feel the liquid start pouring out of my nose and a thick layer of sweat forms around my neck and forehead, I did take a glance downward. I swiped it from the back of my hand thinking of sweat but it wasn't transparent watery consistency, despite its red thick liquid. "Don't fight it anymore, can't you see how weak you are!? You still have time to go back from where you came from. It's not a task for weaklings like you to perform. Not anybody can play the hero." Her bitchy laughter boomed inside the cave.

El grumbled. "I don't understand what's wrong with him at the moment," Cressa said quietly, pushing her long blonde hair behind her ear. "He's just a hormonal male; he'll get over himself." El wrapped her arm around Cressa's waist and walked her back towards their lockers as the rest of the school began to file back in. Sapphira adjusted her bag on her shoulder as she approached the steps of the packhouse. She spent most of her time trying to avoid the place since she didn't want to run into any visitors that might recognise her or her scent. She didn't have much choice now.

[AVA] I couldn't remember the last time I had sweated so profusely. There were visible sweat stains under my arms, and I silently thanked myself for choosing a black office shirt on my first day. The thought of enduring stares if anyone noticed my nervousness was unbearable. By reacting this way, I was practically giving Brian a reason to suspect that I had done something wrong. Well, I had, by sleeping with him, but he didn't know about it, right?

and hell yeah, there would be blood bath here by then. On my way to the tent, I do a lot speed-running, inhumanly, cutting anyone that stands in my way, allowing their blood form heavy beads of sweat-like stains on my face such that, it's dripping down my jaw. My light beards certainly must be drenched in crimson red. My clothes are filled with the same wetness, too. And I do not stop in my run.

Instead, I became more wide awake. Sweat ran into my eyes and mouth. I shook my head, dispersing the drops. I began to feel liquid running all over my body. This time, it did not feel like sweat. The liquid was thicker and more viscous. I sniffed and smelled the salty, vaguely rusty smell of blood. Quickly, I looked down at myself and saw the blood like a coat of paint, covering me from head to toe.