Bloodline Supernatural Novels & Stories

What unseen hand had placed Jace into this lineage? Then there was the Chevre. Damon Chevre, the only son, the dark spark igniting old wars. The man who killed Alice Grey—a blow aimed to sever the fragile alliance between the Chevre and the Bishop families. The blood feud that followed marked a new chapter. Damon’s death at the hands of Jace Grey was more than vengeance—it was a statement. Jace, the outsider turned keystone, had become a pivotal force—both protector and avenger. Not just a Grey by name, but a shadow lurking between them all, holding pieces of a future no one could yet see.

“My only job today is to make sure you don’t give birth. The Falcone heir can’t be a bastard.” "He's not a bastard!" I used my last ounce of strength to protect my stomach. "I told you, he's Darren's child..." I felt a warm gush of liquid between my legs. It was blood. A lot of blood. "Stop... please, stop..." She paid no attention, continuing to kick and punch me. "The Falcone bloodline will not be tainted!" Despair washed over me. I knew my baby wasn't going to make it. I lost consciousness completely.

Eve's POV The fifth faction was called the Bloodline Council. They were the oldest faction in the Conclave. Older than the Military faction. Older than the Merchant faction. Older than everything except the Conclave itself. They represented the ancient supernatural bloodlines, the families that had been part of the supernatural world since before anyone had started writing things down. Vampires who had seen empires rise and fall. Witch lineages that predated the Conclave by centuries. Shifter clans whose histories went back further than most recorded supernatural law.

But he had been planning this all along. 'Why me?' I asked, the words shaking. 'Why not kill me that night?' He tilted his head. 'Because you are the key. The Lost Bloodline is not a myth, Aria. It’s an equation, and you are the missing variable. Your power isn’t evolution—it’s correction. A return to what we were meant to be before the divide.' I didn’t understand, not fully—but part of me felt it. The ancient pull in my veins, the voice that had whispered in my dreams since I first shifted.

“The power is only a symptom.” The confusion on my face must have been obvious because she continued before I could interrupt. “The Bloodline is a living inheritance. A piece of something much older than wolves, older than the packs, older than the council itself.” A chill crawled down my spine. “Older than the Moon Goddess?” For the first time, Selene reacted. Her eyes narrowed slightly. My mother shook her head. “No.” The answer relieved me. A little. “Then what is it?” My mother hesitated.

"You'll see. You will realize that you are now mine. I will be the owner of your child. And you—well, you'll either voluntarily serve me or die. The world around me appeared to fall apart as she spoke. The air became darker and colder. I sensed that her power was increasing while mine was rapidly diminishing. There was no escape. Not in this manner. But then a notion came to me through the fog of my panic. The rogue had mentioned something about an old bloodline and my abilities. Is this the case? Was this what I had been looking forward to? I summoned something I didn't entirely grasp by reaching deep within myself with the last of my remaining strength. That ancient force was boiling to th

"It’s not them, Mom! The Council is using the silver in their blood to control them!" The survivors didn't growl. They didn't shift. They simply walked forward in a slow, synchronized rhythm. It was the "Puppet Walk." Every time their feet hit the ground, a faint red pulse of energy rippled through the grass. They were forming a circle around Elias, their movements perfect and robotic. "The Crescent Bloodline is a battery, boy," the voices hissed through Mia’s lips. "And a battery can be short-circuited. If we cannot have their power, we will let it burn them from the inside out."

Lyra stayed with the babies. “The curse is reacting to new Virel blood,” the oldest Keeper said. “What does that mean?” Kael asked. “It means it’s fighting back. The renewal angered it.” “Can we stop it?” “We can slow it. With blood. With vows. With time.” Kael came home grim. Lyra saw it on his face the second he walked in. “What is it?” “Nothing. Just house stuff.” She didn’t believe him. But she didn’t push. Not with the babies finally asleep.

“She needed this.” “I know.” I whispered. I looked down at her sleeping peacefully against me. That’s when I noticed it. The blanket had shifted slightly near her shoulder. Dark lines disappeared beneath the collar of her shirt. Frowning, I gently adjusted the blanket just enough to see her arm. My heart stopped. The curse had spread. It wound across nearly every inch of exposed skin I could see. Dark veins branched beneath the surface, stretching farther than they had that morning. Farther than yesterday. Farther than either of us had realized. “Silas…” My voice barely made a sound.

It was strictly forbidden by the pack rules for any werewolf to remain in their tents during the morning work hours. _But who cares? The rules were meant for others, not me._ My name is Samantha Emberwood. I was born half-werewolf, half-nymph, under a special lineage of wolf known as Purebred. Unlike others of my kind who have the ability to transform and communicate directly with their wolves, Purebreds possess the ability to separate from their inner wolf, creating a special bond that grants us control and mastery over their abilities. In the entire Dawn Runner pack, I'm the only one born with the Purebred Bloodline. Rumor has it that I inherited my abilities from my birth mother. But the