Bloodlines Books Novels & Stories

Brian commanded, his voice tight and raspy as he grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand away from the melting wax. "Brian, look at these pages," I said, pointing my lantern beam toward an open, iron-bound tome resting right beside the stone bowl. I leaned closer, my eyes skimming the jagged red ink scribbled across the thick parchment pages. "These are bloodline rituals, Brian. Look at the diagrams drawn along the margins. They bind the life force of an ancient royal line directly to another pack's throne." "I don't care what is written in those books," Brian growled, his jaw set in a hard, rigid line, his eyes dark with a terrifying mix of grief and fury. "We are leaving this chamber right now."

Lina tightened her grip around the folder. "Everyone keeps saying they're afraid. I'm tired of hearing that." She opened the black folder. The first page was marked: THE THREE BLOODLINES Lina stared at the words. Fames leaned over her shoulder. "What does it say?" Lina read silently. Then her face changed. "What?" She turned the page toward them. There were three family names. VALE. REED. MORGAN. Elena's eyes widened. "That's impossible." Lina looked at her.

Every vampire they passed bowed slightly, deferred to his presence like he was more than a noble or a general. Like he was royalty. She found the ledger she needed in a locked cabinet: Bloodlines of the Ancients. It was thick and heavy, bound in worn leather and sealed with iron clasps. She picked the lock with a flick of her dagger and flipped through the pages until she found it:

My fingers wrapped around the heavy spine, and I pulled it out into the lantern light. The Bloodline Registers. I blew a light dusting of gray soot off the cover, my hands shaking so violently I could barely unbuckle the iron strap. I flipped the cover open. Pages of dense, elegant handwriting filled the parchment with names, dates, birthrights, and crude red stamps denoting those who had been executed or exiled. I turned the pages frantically, my eyes scanning the script. Vane... Thorne... Sterling... "You're looking in the wrong century, Malia."

Not on land. Not through ley lines. Through blood. I stagger upright. Ashcroft’s eyes sharpen. “You can’t anchor without foundation.” “You’re right.” I press my palm to the earth. But I don’t reach downward. I reach inward. The baby. Asher. Kade. Kieran. Three divine carriers. Bloodline. Not geography. If ley lines can be severed— Blood can replace them. It’s dangerous. Terrifying. But it’s the only option. “Isla, don’t,” Morgan whispers.

It wasn't hot enough to be painful this time, just pulsing softly in rhythm with my heartbeat. I opened the book. The pages were aged-looking, the ink spotty in different spots. The writing itself, no, I shouldn't be able to decipher it. The symbols were old-fashioned, from before the pack texts. However, I could read each word. *The Histories of the Ancient Bloodlines. Volume III: The Torres Lineage and the Binding of the Moon.* My hands were shaking. Torres. My mother’s ancestral surname. In Andrew’s chair, I settled in and read.

Old books stacked in glass cases, labeled in ancient tongues. But what chilled me most was that one of the cases had been opened. I stepped forward, gaze fixed on the glass shards strewn across the floor. The velvet cushion inside the case was empty—its label read: “The Blood Chronicle: Wolfsong Lineage, Vol. I” “No...” I whispered. That book contained the deepest secrets of my bloodline. The ancient bond between our ancestors and the Moon Goddess. The prophecy of the one who would unite—or destroy—the balance between werewolves and the magic-bound.

Like a tomb for knowledge no one wanted anymore. Rhea led me deep into the stacks. Past history. Past genealogy. Into a section I had never seen. The books here were older. Bound in leather so worn it felt like cloth. She pulled one down. Blew dust from the cover. Set it on a table. "Bloodline manifestations" she read from the spine. "Recorded abilities in ancient wolf families." "You think this is genetic?" "I think you are not the first person this has happened to." She flipped through pages. Stopped on a section marked EMPATHIC RESONANCE.

It was becoming a monument instead of a connection. The Salt Wolf stepped between us. The Ashford-recording was flickering, the violet light in its eyes fading into grey. "The list," the beast croaked. Ronan’s voice was barely a whisper now. "The seventeenth was not the end, Amara. Look at the ledger. Look at the last page." The leather-bound ledger from the Library of Bones suddenly appeared in my mind. The pages flipped, caught in the wind of the Ascension. I saw the seventeen names of the bloodlines. I saw my mother’s handwriting.

Declan leaned closer as he scanned the content page. “We’ll have to go through it and see if any match what happened today,” he said quietly, Layana nodded as she reached over to her bedside lamp, touching it, “Brighten,” she said, the lamp instantly brightened, sitting back Declan began skimming the pages, Layana too hoping anything would help. “Do you really think it’s a forbidden bloodline?” “Why else would your father hide it?” He had a point, “What happens to those who have a forbidden bloodline?” she asked cautiously