Bloodlines Novel Novels & Stories

"She’s here, Alexander. She’s in Malta. She’s waiting for us at the original coordinates. She’s waiting to finish the story." Alexander looked at the woman in his arms the woman he’d lied to, the woman he’d accidentally turned into a god. He realized then that the "The Billionaire’s Blood Proxy" was no longer about a contract or a billionaire. It was about two sisters, one of blood, and one of code, fighting for the soul of a city. "Then we finish it," Alexander said, his eyes hard and cold. "Tonight."

Slowly, I turned my head to look at Dante. He was still leaning against the table, his hand pressed against his bleeding side, looking at me with this profound, agonizing pity. He didn't look like a killer anymore. He looked like the man who had pulled a terrified toddler out of a cage and spent the next fourteen years letting her hate him just so she could keep her memories of her parents clean. I looked at my hands, the knuckles bruised from hitting his chest on the stairs. I looked at the files on the floor. For the first time in my life, the world was completely black and white, and I had absolutely no idea who the real villain was anymore.

I had not expected it to change but there was something in me that had needed to look again. My wolf was not silent anymore. She was moving, not anxious, not frightened, something closer to the way she had felt in the hour before the shift, like she was adjusting to something new and orienting. I put my hand flat over my stomach. A reflex. And I thought about what Yoana had told me in that clinical, careful way she had that the child of a Founding Line heir and an ancient bloodline Alpha would carry both lines. That the combination of those two bloodlines had not been seen in recorded history. That this child, before they were even a formed thought, already carried more raw genetic power tha

Historical accounts of children born of opposing lines— of conquerors and the conquered, of blood spilled and blood joined. One line lodged itself into my chest like a blade this time… ‘When bloodlines clash, the child becomes either a bridge… or a war.’ This line somewhat reminded me of what seer had said. Specifically, the words, bloodline and bridge. I closed the record with a loud thud. Confusion rippled within me like a dagger scraping against my chest. For the first time in my life, I was not afraid of what I had inherited. I was afraid of what I might have created…

"That looks like ancient script. Pre-kingdom era." I translated slowly, my knowledge of old texts barely adequate. "Prophecy of the Twin Flames. When darkness rises from the deep places, when corruption spreads unchecked, the goddess will act. Two bloodlines shall unite. Wolf and Lycan. Carrier and King. Together they will break the chains that bind the world to shadow." The words settled over us like a weight. "Two bloodlines unite," Asher repeated. "My mother's bloodline and yours." "The chains will break," I continued. "What chains?"

I thought of the world that was currently waking up to a silence it didn’t understand. But as I felt that tiny, second heartbeat pulse against my palm, I didn’t feel like a fugitive. I didn’t feel like a victim of a global conspiracy. I felt like an Architect. The first book was about the blood. It was about the betrayal and the breaking of the old world. It was about the trauma of the glass and the roar of the mountain. But the second book? The one we were starting right now, in this quiet French valley? That book was going to be about the Home.

“Silence!” The command rippled across the room. Cain growled in his head at the challenge. Had he not been bound, he would have commanded Cole just as he did at the trial. Another warrior fell beside him, and the pain slashed through his body when another bond broke. He was still trying to recover when Lincoln grabbed Layla by her throat. His claws dug into her delicate skin and punctured it. And the scent of her blood overpowered every other smell in the room. Her blood. Her pain. Her fear.

The moment I opened my eyes, I felt like I was reborn in new and more powerful body. I could feel the overflowing energy on my veins, the heat of fire around me, my soul aching for blood, and my every nerve screaming for death. Ren Lancaster's death. "You really look so much more beautiful when you are all on fire. Maybe I should marry you soon. What do you think, my queen?" I moved my hands in rhythm with the beating of my heart to form the phoenix attack.

I walked into the store, dropping off my hunting tools before stepping into the house to freshen up. I walked into the shower, turning on the knob. I pressed my hands against the wall, bowing my hair allowing the cold water to splatter on my head and drip down through my face. Aemond’s words still echoed in my mind as though he was standing behind me. I turned around wiping water off my face immediately but saw nothing. It was just me and my thoughts. “Lyra is the key. Her bloodline—do you even understand what that means? If she’s truly the one, your reign would not just be as Alpha—it would be as a god among men.”

She bent close to the inked lines, eyes losing their surface sharpness and taking on the inward tilt Evelyn recognized as the beginning of a reading. “Moonsblood will ask a price,” Aleta said after a quiet minute. She kept her voice level, as if naming weather. “Not in blood, necessarily. But in truth. The man who called you will not accept victory if it comes too easily. He needs a story worth telling himself. You cannot change that. You can only refuse to be written in his evil script.” “We had planned for that,” Damon said.