Bloodline Supernatural Novelas e Histórias

Not like she was supporting the enemy which was actually Clara and Kieran, but they were kicking some home world butt. “And you got it” Ronnie said and she didn’t like her tone. “You’re lying”. “Not like I care or anything, but Supernaturals are dying. Just a reminder”. The seal was close enough to what she saw. She had seen it in her mind and it was close. The wings were on her back now and Ronnie had a smirk and Danny grabbed her by her wrist and she was glowing purple. “Like hell I’ll let you out of my sight”. And they made their way to the battlefield. She had arrived just in time to see spinning death going towards every soldier. The power alone radiating off of it scared her. But she d

She looks at her tea for a moment. "Lunares didn't just carry wolf pregnancies," she says. "They stabilized supernatural bloodlines across species. Not only wolves. Any supernatural lineage that had grown unstable, diluted, or weakened over generations could be renewed through a Lunare bloodline." She looks up. "Your people were not a resource to be used. They were a living anchor. A way for the supernatural world to stay connected to something older and more fundamental than any single species." "The Moon," I say.

About a hundred years ago, people in the land lived in peace and harmony. There are people with superhuman abilities and they call them Badbloods. They can harness the power of nature, they can make the plants grow in their will, some can transform into an animal, and some can see the future. Powers that no one knows where it come from as it wasn't hereditary. It was like a gift given to random people. Inkurs are the most powerful Badbloods. They are very rare for they draw their power from the Ether or the Abyss, the realms of heaven and hell.

I said to Ishmael. "I know," he replied, holding a glass of whiskey to me. "How do you know?" "I’ve been doing some research. She is a Staxton, and her family has been looking for their daughter for a year now." "She is a Staxton?" Everyone knew who the Staxtons were, but I never heard of a daughter before. They were Bloodline vampires, which meant they possessed abilities the average vampires didn’t. Generations have passed, and the family still held power over their specie.

Blaine inquires, pouring the amber liquid into crystal skull glasses. “For once, he’s not playing a game. He’s using my bloodline to not ever have to have another child, as he wants me to be the last one he ever has. Death found a way to use my bloodline and tie it to the magic and realm of the coven. I’m his legacy.” That still feels weird to say. Deep down, I think I knew it, but it’s different having it confirmed. Even more so when the thought is spoken out loud. “That’s a huge honor and a big deal, Zane,” Blaine replies, setting a glass in front of me as he sits back in his chair, holding his own glass.

"That sounds ominous." "It should. According to this, they handle supernatural individuals who pose potential threats to the established order." I kept reading, my horror growing with each line. "Individuals with unusual bloodlines, exceptional powers, or connections to ancient magical artifacts." "Like White Luna bloodlines," Jaxon said quietly. "Exactly like White Luna bloodlines." I closed the file, my hands trembling. "Maya's collapse, her enhanced senses, her unusual strength – what if those weren't just stress responses? What if she really does have some kind of supernatural heritage?"

I would never be able to drink the blood of any other again. I knew what she was now. An ancient, forgotten prophecy I’d read when the world was young had flickered to life in my memory. A single human bloodline, blessed—or cursed—by the Gods, with a single mutation in their DNA that allowed them to withstand us. An adaptation. The other supernaturals had feared it so much they’d tried to exterminate the line. I thought they’d succeeded. I was wrong. Trisha might be the last of them. A treasure, and I had let her slip through my fingers.

She has no idea what trouble she’s in tasting so good. * * * The Travors Bloodline August 5th, 1716 Transcriber: Fredrick Yearn Maxwell George Barnett is born within the Freemore bloodline. Vampire Cornelius Herrington is the possessor of all individuals who belong within the stated bloodline. At the moment Maxwell is one of eight persons alive who can nourish their owner. Thankfully, vampire rules state that blood lettings cannot happen until the individual is no longer a child. March 17th, 1736

Reid said. "Every major supernatural crisis in recorded history, if you go back far enough, there's a carrier in the documentation. Not always central. Not always visible. But present." He paused. "We think the bloodline is responsive. That it surfaces when it's needed." Roman sat with this. Thought about Sara in the forest. Her body choosing that specific road at that specific time on that specific night. Thought about the mate bond hitting him like something inevitable rather than something random. Thought about what Elena would say, years from now, sitting in a war room describing visions of ancient darkness pressing through fractures in reality.

“This isn’t about them. It’s about you.” The glowing symbols on the walls pulsed in time with Sasha’s racing heartbeat. She felt a surge of energy within her, wild and untamed, and her hands began to glow faintly. The man’s eyes widened slightly, and for the first time, his composure faltered. “Yes,” he murmured, almost to himself. “There it is. The power of the First Bloodline.” Sasha’s head spun. “What are you talking about?” He stepped closer, his voice low and hypnotic. “You are the last descendant of the First Alpha. The power in your blood can either unite or destroy the supernatural world. And I intend to make sure it’s the latter.”