Bloodlines Novel Novels & Stories

She stopped herself. Not her what? She thought of Marcus. Of Elena. The form of Lydia's smile. She remembered the night when everything changed, the night nobody was to remember. “No, no, no,” said Ava, shaking her head. "That doesn't mean anything." However, it did not erase the words on the screen. “Bloodline,” she read again. “It is possible that strangers can match, but not very common. Rare.” Her hands began to shake. "If I matched..." she said and could not complete the sentence.

I could smell his cologne expensive, sharp, familiar. "You’re insane," I said, reaching for the door. Before I could touch it, the door slammed shut. Two men stepped from the shadows, blocking the exit. Lorenzo leaned close, his voice deadly soft. "The games are over. You’re coming with me. You’ll live under my roof. Follow my rules. And give me my heir." "I'm not going anywhere," I snapped. "You destroyed my family." "And yet," he said, glancing at my stomach, "you carry my blood."

“This is manipulation.” “Maybe,” I whispered back. “But so were the elders.” The woman heard that. A faint smirk touched her lips. “You feel it, don’t you?” she asked me quietly. “In your own veins.” My heart stuttered. The grandmother’s words echoed in my mind. You carry it too. “That’s impossible,” I said—but it sounded weaker now. The silver-haired woman shook her head gently. “Bloodlines don’t disappear. They bury themselves. They wait.” A sharp cry cut through the air.

"The Codex was on the third shelf from the back wall, left side." "Do you think it's still here?" Denice asked. "If it's not then we'll have to stay to find it" "What's in it?" Valkyrie chimed in. "Everything." Zara stepped over a collapsed shelf. "Bloodline records going back six generations. Hybrids. Curse genealogy. If anyone has written down where these things are coming from, someone in my family collected a reference for it." Valkyrie started clearing a section of floor with her boot, systematic and unhurried. Denice began righting the shelves that were still intact enough to stand, which gave them somewhere to put things as they moved through the wreckage.

The evenings belonged to my mother's journals. After helping Mel close the bakery, I would curl up near the small fireplace upstairs with a blanket and whatever journal I was currently working through. The more I read, the more questions I found. Tonight was no different. I carefully turned another yellowed page. The handwriting immediately caught my attention. Blood magic appears to manifest differently depending upon the bloodline carrying it. I sat up slightly. That was new. My eyes moved quickly across the page. Most historical records describe manipulation. Control. Extraction.

At least, not in terms of lineage. Perhaps it was because her blood had become so muddied with not just one, but two generations of werewolves before her. Or perhaps it was just on the great magical mysteries that wouldn’t never be explained. But there, in a bright green hand, was the name Adelaide Rosalie Walker-Black, depicting the start of a brand-new blood line. A fresh page to welcome the start of a new family tree. Running my long slender finger of the green lettering, my soul revelling in the power surge.

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.

That bloodline. Alice? She was a threat to that. She left him, but not quietly. She fled to Dominic Grey. A name whispered like a death sentence. No one challenged Dominic. Not even Christopher. Not when he had the black market, and the loyalty of entire cartels. A notorious scavenging felon willing to gut someone alive who accidentally stares at him. Alice gave birth to a girl, Jewel Grey. It was Dominic’s. But Christopher insanely wanted Alice. So instead of fighting to win her back, Christopher settled for what was left.

I said, my tone fierce enough to make her flinch. I took another step forward, desperate now. “Listen to me. Everything I’ve done, every lie, every secret, it was to protect you. Because your bloodline… it isn’t ordinary. You aren’t just another woman who happened to catch my attention. You are tied to something far older, far darker than either of us.” She went very still. “My bloodline,” she repeated slowly, like the words were foreign on her tongue. I nodded once, grimly. “The Blackwood prophecy.”

"You think I care about the puzzle? I didn’t ask for this chaos. My focus should be on leading my pack, not on babysitting a hybrid with unknown ties!" "Is that what you think it is? Babysitting?" Qwin challenged, her voice rising slightly. "Irwin is the only hybrid connected to our Bloodlines Dorian. You cannot dismiss her so easily." The weight of her words settled heavily in the air. Dorian took a step back, the implications of Qwin’s statement crashing over him like a wave. "What are you saying, Grandmother?" "Yes," Qwin replied, her tone now measured, almost conspiratorial. " You made that decision when you refused full blooded wolf that wanted you."