Blood Virgin: Blood Flame Novels & Stories

I head inside and he follows me to the stairs. "Hey, babygirl." Blaze calls out. "Yeah." "For what it's worth. I feel you." He rubs his hand across his chest. Blaze is a vampire with abilities like mine and Romeo. We aren't your usual empaths. We don't just feel emotions. We can feel the physcial pain of those we love.

Humans couldn’t see it—except for the gifted ones who could perceive the unseen. A werewolf without royal blood could have their mark voided using the Blue Flame. The Blue Flame was no ordinary fire. It was a flame from a thousand years ago—one that could never be extinguished. Mates who wished to sever their bond had to lie within it, enduring its torment. The time spent within the fire depended on their will to break the bond. Some endured only a few hours, but most had to remain for two to three days. The flame did not physically harm them, but it tortured their souls until the bond was completely severed.

Coming to a door, I eased it open and my anger flared as a bloody scene filled my eyes. Blood. So much fucking blood gushed from the wound on her neck. Who was she? Why did this asshole hurt her? Why was the word, “MINE” echoing in my psyche? Not waiting to get an answer, I pounced. I took the vampire to the floor, slamming the bastard’s head to the floor. A grunt of pain answered the blow but it didn’t faze the asshole. No. this one was damned strong. He pushed me off him and we circled each other.

I was standing in a field of white fire again, the same place I’d seen before. But this time, it wasn’t empty. The Moon Goddess stood before me, her silver hair falling like water, her eyes calm. Beside her stood the figure of flame — taller, darker, with eyes that burned like the sun. I couldn’t breathe. “Who are you?” The flame spoke first. “You already know.” “No,” I said. “I don’t.” “You carry my blood,” he said. “The fire that can end everything.” The goddess looked at me gently. “And mine,” she said. “The light that can save it.”

“Now rise, Fireborn. The next time he touches you, the flame will answer. And it will be his undoing.” I rose, slowly, steadily, the violet-blue flame dancing on my fingertips, the power thrumming through me, an unstoppable force. The scar on my aunt’s throat pulsed in resonance with my own awakened magic. The fear was still there, a faint echo, but it was overshadowed by a burning, resolute fury. The witchblood had awakened. And it craved vengeance.

“Do not call upon your wolf. Call upon you. The flame that answers only to your heart. It is your birthright, your blood." "My... blood?" I whispered, feeling my pulse race faster, the wounds on my arms pulsing with heat. The rogue noticed my sudden stillness and smirked. "What's wrong, little flame? Giving up?" I met his gaze, and for the first time, didn't look away. "Not even close." He frowned, sensing the shift in the air. "What—" I raised my hand. Blood dripped from my palm, thick, crimson, glistening in the pale moonlight.

Nicole's face went white as a sheet, tears streaming down uncontrollably, splashing onto the ground. However, not a single soul showed any sympathy. Rage boiled over in me when I saw my daughter's tears. I wrenched myself free from the grip of several towering bodyguards, snatched up a crystal cup from the table, and flung it at Simon. The cup caught Simon off-guard, its jagged edge slicing a gash across his forehead. "Bullying a child, how low can you go?!" Breathless, with a fiery gaze, I stood there, staring down Simon.

Each bears a single flame above it. Voice of the Ancients (booming): “You carry truth. You carry fear. And still, you walk. The flame remembers.” A sarcophagus rises from the lava, sealed in volcanic glass. Carved on its lid is an inscription: “HERE LIES THE FIRST WHO BURNED THEMSELVES TO SAVE THE WORLD.” Ceres (stepping forward): “This is her. The first Flameblood mother.” The glass splits open. Inside is a skeleton—perfectly preserved, her hands cradling a stone tablet. Maera gently lifts it.

The sound was not sound at all, but a vibration that cracked through the air and inside their bones, like every grave in existence echoing at once. You are mine. Flame, void, blood, everything burns down here. Zayn spat blood onto the stone. “Not yet.” He surged forward, his blade igniting with bloodfire, carving a line against the colossal shadow-hand. The fire clung, hissing against the void, but the abyss didn’t even flinch. The hand swept sideways like a mountain in motion, smashing into Zayn and hurling him across the cavern like a ragdoll. He hit the far wall with a sickening crack, stone splintering around him.