Novelas y relatos de Bloodline Sheldon Novel

Sheldon sold his own blood just to scrape together enough cash to sneak back into the country. He'd lost everything—flat broke, banned from flying, and not a penny to his name. Smuggling himself back was his only option. After a grueling week-long trip, he finally made it home. The first thing he did was rush to the basement apartment in our old neighborhood, thinking he'd find me and the boys there. But when he opened the door, all he saw was junk piled to the ceiling, the place stinking of mold and trash.

he says. "I know," I say. He hands the knife back to me, handle first. "Keep it," he says. "Next time, aim for the throat." Outside, the moon is rising—two days from full, heavy and pregnant with light. But in the portrait room, surrounded by the faces of women who had not been allowed to choose, I feel something shift. The bloodline is not a curse, I realize. It is a question. And for the first time, I am ready to answer it on my own terms.

she said quietly. I ripped the envelope open, my eyes scanning the contents. The blood sample matched Delta Derrick. “Lyra informed me of the crest she found. It prompted me to cross match the blood sample with Derrick’s.” Selene paused. “He had donated blood to his cousin who was injured in the fight. And I still had some of it in the lab.” I stood speechless, It wasn't Damon after all.

She was bound to a cold, metal chair “Help,” she screamed. “Somebody help me!” Her voice bounced off the walls. Stone walls, by the sound of it. She was underground “Please!” She shouted again, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I do not know what this is! Please let me go!” The sound of a heavy door creaking open made her freeze. Light spilled in from somewhere behind her, casting long shadows across the floor. But what stepped into that light made her blood run cold. The shawdowbreed. Saliva dripped from their jaws as they moved, and the smell hit her harder now. Death. That is what it was.

“Blood means nothing when it’s rotten.” I knew he meant the Chevre name. I knew he meant family ties that corrode from the inside out. My jaw tightened. “Then I guess we’re the same,” I said quietly. “Alice Grey’s death will never sit right with me. And I’ll carry that until I’ve paid the debt.” We let the rain’s patter fill the silence—until it wasn’t silence anymore. From upstairs, the muffled rhythm of skin on skin pushed through the walls. A low, feminine moan floated down, sharp enough to cut through the hum of the street. Then another—louder this time, shameless.

Kael shielded himself, but I was already moving—free, alive, burning. The corridor outside was chaos. Sirens blared. Guards ran toward me, weapons raised, but the power within me reacted faster. Their bullets dissolved midair. I moved like lightning, my body guided by instinct I didn’t understand. Each guard that touched me fell unconscious, energy drawn from them like mist. Kael followed, unhurried, his voice echoing through the burning halls. “You still don’t understand what you carry. That bloodline you cling to—it’s older than the packs. Older than wolves.”

“About Adrian.” My heart stops. “The turning,” Vera says gently. “It’s not permanent. Not completely.” I stare. “What do you mean?” “There’s a cure,” Lucira says. “One cure. The blood of the true mate, willingly given under the Bloodline Eclipse. Royal hybrid blood offered with love can burn the sire bond away forever.” I sit up too fast, head spinning. “You’re saying if I give him my blood during the eclipse…” “He’ll be free,” Vera finishes. “Human again. Or as close as he can get.”

" Just those two syllables silenced Marco's sobbing instantly. "You have bled for the Family. I remember." A flash of wild hope lit Marco's eyes. "However." Don Vincenzo stood and walked slowly toward him, looking down from above. "You killed my blood. You owe me a blood debt. It must be repaid." He delivered the final judgment. "At sunrise tomorrow, your right hand will be cut off. You are stripped of all rank and property. You will be expelled from the inner circle. Your life will be spared. This is the greatest mercy I can offer."

She had one lead: the flower shop. It took two hours of cross-referencing property records from Sofia’s encrypted cloud drive accessed via a backdoor Chen finally provided with known Moretti shell corporations. She found it: Belladonna Blooms, a quaint boutique in the gentrifying North End. The name was a joke only a monster would make. Belladonna: deadly nightshade. Beautiful. Poisonous.

*"Please, it hurts inside. I want to go home." *"You are home, child,"* my father’s voice joined in as he stepped forward, holding a heavy medical kit. *"But the emotional residue is cluttering your focus. Time for a flush."* The scene violently shifted. I was strapped to a cold, steel table under blinding white lights. The chemical stench of bleach and burning wires choked my throat. My parents leaned over me, completely indifferent to my terror, preparing a pneumatic syringe filled with a thick, glowing amber fluid. They had built a biometric weapon a living encryption key and installed it directly into my neural pathways. Something the syndicate’s enemies would slaughter nations to posses