Bloodlines Dc Novels & Stories

‘The bloodline curse,’ I whisper in wonder. The blight of my otherwise perfect unlife, yet, if I’m to understand Canus correctly, an unavoidable side effect of its very perfection. Other vampiric bloodlines aren’t as strong as the royal line, but they also don’t suffer our curse. And it’s all because they’ve been using dhampirs to strengthen the bloodline. Canus is both the progeny of the Prince of London and his biological son! It’s all starting to come together.

“No. I won’t let him steal what’s mine.” “You mean ours,” my father says. My jaw tightens. “No. Mine.” Sebastian speaks, his voice rough. “Even if we expose Carlos, it won’t be enough. Not if the pack’s scared.” “Then we give them something to believe in,” I say. “Something stronger than fear.” “Like what?” my father asks. I hesitate. Then I say it. “Me.” They both look at me, surprised. “I’m done waiting for approval. Done playing by their rules. I’ll show them I’m worthy of the bloodline.”

“That’s not reassuring.” Blake ignores him. His eyes never leave mine. “James didn’t just mark you,” he says. “He triggered something.” Cold dread settles in my stomach. “Triggered what?” I ask. The fire in my veins surges, answering before he does. It coils tighter, stretching, unfolding, like something long asleep is finally waking. Blake smiles. “The bloodline,” he says. “The one everyone thought was a myth.” Ethan stiffens. “No.” “Yes.” Blake’s voice is reverent now. “The Goddess-bound line. The kind that doesn’t manifest unless pushed to the edge of death.”

“You work for him?” “I worked for the Order before any of you were born.” She stepped closer, and the air warped around her like heat. “You think the bloodline began with wolves? You think this is about packs?” “Then what is it about?” “Balance.” The ground beneath me split slightly, faint lines glowing like magma. “I don’t believe you.” “You don’t have to.” Her gaze flicked to the horizon. “He’s alive. The bond would have broken if he wasn’t. You can still feel him, can’t you?”

“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.

I wanted to hear every bit of information he had, so I gave him a nod to keep going. ​"The grandmother was a hybrid. The lineage exists, but her father was born with human genes and her mother was entirely human. That means the Edemas line has been watered down." ​"I’m going to cut you off right there," I interjected. "If the bloodline is so thin, why do you view Lyanna as such a massive threat?"

“I didn’t hear you.” “I’ve been told I walk quietly.” She smiled. “I suppose working around council members teaches you that.” “I guess.” She glanced toward the shelf. “Bloodlines?” “Oh.” I quickly pulled my hand back. “I was just browsing.” “They’re fascinating.” “Are they?” “Oh, absolutely.” She stepped beside me. “There are families who can trace their lineage back nearly a thousand years.” “Really?” She nodded. “The old bloodlines carried unusual traits.” My heartbeat quickened. “Like what?”

“Now.” In the living room Damian had pulled out a whiteboard. Like this was some kind of war room. “Obasi wants the company,” Damian said. “He swapped babies twenty-eight years ago. Me and… someone else.” Marcus went completely still. “DNA test tomorrow,” Damian continued. “All of us. And the baby when it’s born.” Zara’s stomach flipped. “You think—” “I think Obasi wouldn’t be this desperate unless the bloodline was wrong,” Damian said.

Something in my chest that has been in one position for eleven days shifts. "Vienna reported in this morning." He crosses to my desk. Sets down a single printed page with the deliberate care of someone who has thought carefully about how to deliver something. "Prague went dark yesterday. Lisbon haven't responded to three separate messages." He pauses. His voice doesn't change — he's too good for that — but something behind his eyes does. "The degradation pattern is consistent across all five bloodlines. Starts eleven days ago. Simultaneously." Another pause. "To the hour."