Blooded Warhammer Novels & Stories

War drums echoed across the compound as Bloodfang forces emerged from the forest like a tide of shadow and steel. From the walls, I could see Kael's banners streaming in the wind that preceded the coming storm crimson cloth marked with the snarling wolf head that had once been my own symbol. "Three hundred warriors, just as the scouts reported," Marcus observed grimly, lowering his spyglass. "Plus siege equipment and what looks like a full complement of battle-mages." Battle-mages. Wolves trained to channel raw pack energy into destructive force. They couldn't match the individual power of an Eclipse Covenant heir, but working together they could level entire sections of wall.

"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. Her life had just changed forever.

Dawn growled, her golden form lunging at a wraith, claws slashing, frost exploding, the amber light glinting in her eyes, the hollow’s chill a call to battle, the frosted clay trembling, Tess’s fire a flame, the Crimsonborn a thrum, the pack’s legacy a fire, the battle a frozen storm. The shard’s hum reached a crescendo, the amber runes blazing, the ground within the ring splitting, a frosted form rising, the Crimsonborn’s champion, a Blood Weaver, its form a mass of blood and frost, eyes glowing amber, its roar shaking the hollow, the pool’s ice shattering, the obsidian stones’ runes flaring, the air crackling with dark magic, the thorn trees trembling, the pack’s tattoos glowing, their how

Father shook his head. “She declined it. She made an announcement, much more like a curse, drenched in blood, standing in the bloodied pool of dead bodies in the middle of the battlefield, looking dead into Micah’s eyes. She declared that, like Micah had made her and her bloodline suffer… the demonic werewolves will return and wage sixty-six wars against the outer world. In each war, the outer world would be trashed by evil not just from the demonics but by their own people as well,” father said.

The birthing sanctuary, its memory a beacon in the dark, stood as a testament to the enduring power of love—a power that would echo through the battlefield until the day the lovers could find each other once more, beyond the reach of war's cruel embrace. _____ Adrian's senses were heightened, attuned to the symphony of war that surrounded him. The scent of blood and the metallic tang of magic hung in the air as werewolves clashed with vampires in a dance of destruction. His fur bristled with primal fury, each heartbeat synchronized with the relentless rhythm of battle.

“They’re here.” A hush fell over the warriors. Across the ridge, black banners appeared tattered cloth bearing the sigil of the ancient bloodlines. Red-eyed figures lined the horizon row upon row of vampires, their armor blackened, their blades dripping with dark magic. Among them, towering bloodspawn snorted and snarled, muscles rippling beneath thick hides. And at the heart of the army, a figure in crimson and silver a vampire lord, tall and cold, with eyes that glowed like coals.

Its blue light glimmered in her eyes the light of truth… and damnation. “No. We’ll stop them. Whatever it takes.” Lucien lifted his gaze, voice low and fierce. “Then prepare yourself, Evelyn Cross. From this moment on… Valenfort will drown in real blood.” Lightning split the heavens. From the ruins of Astra, a colossal shadow rose a being of blood and darkness, wings unfurled, screaming into the storm: “THE AGE OF BLOOD BEGINS.”

Dax POV The beast hit the soldiers like a boulder crashing down a ravine, unstoppable and merciless. One swipe of its massive paw shattered a man’s shield into splinters, the wood spraying like broken bones. Screams tore through the gulley, sharp and jagged, as soldiers stumbled over loose shale, their blades clattering uselessly against the stone. The air was thick with dust and the copper tang of blood, the ground trembling beneath the creature’s weight. Its fur shimmered unnaturally, laced with silver veins that pulsed like molten light, casting eerie shadows across the jagged walls of the gulley. No natural thing carried that glow. This was no mere beast—it was a forged wrongness, a walk

The hallway smelled of old blood, rusted iron, and the sharp tang of lies not even the smell of rogues sliced across their nostrils. Gamma took in some air deeply and breathed out slowly, but the pressure in his chest didn’t leave. He was used to warfare,he has been trained for it for far too young. He had seen neck snapped, limbs torn, even children dragged into the claws of ferals during his younger days. But this… this wasn’t just war. This was something darker, deeper and cunning. Hidden. Like a disease under the skin that refused to show itself until it was too late, too late to be noticed.

We had our kind sprout throughout the city; we were worshipped, but then, one after the other, they died, leaving me behind. Roaming. Alone. I stood at the corner of the battlefield, invisible to the eyes of the wolf warriors; they fought in their wolf forms; they had put on fire, and it spread wide into the forest, slowly burning deep into the verse land. Blood painted the field. Lifeless bodies, both in wolf and human form were at every corner of the field. The weak ones who had given up on the fight fled for their lives. I have nothing to do with this treacherous, absurd activity; let them end their lives and let their blood be on their heads; let it be painted on their palms and in their