Bloodlines Of Illuminati Novels & Stories

From what I can tell, her other bloodline might possibly be under Elizabeth’s bloodline— because, for a vampire, she’s beautiful. “A vampire…huh. Whose bloodline were you under…?” I said to Sherry. “Eh? You are familiar with the vampire race…?” “I read history, more or less.” “My family bloodline is under Lord Ambrogio, Lord Gaius, and Lady Elizabeth.” Hearing those unbelievable words, I shook my head for a moment to clear my thoughts. “Say that again?” I ask to confirm once more. “Okay… Lord Ambrogio, Lord Gaius and Lady Elizabeth.”

“Some encrypted files, buried deeply. Proof that Lena had help from someone inside Brian’s own circle. His Gamma.” “His own Gamma was working with her?” Freya said, stunned. “That’s not even the part that matters most,” Annie said, glancing nervously between the two of us. “There’s something else buried in there too. Something about bloodlines. Royal bloodlines, on both sides. Yours and yours.” She looked at me, then at Freya. “It looks like the Moon Goddess’s rituals are connecting your families in a way nobody’s talked about. And from what I can tell, some kind of choice is coming soon,” she finished.

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."

"But here's the thing. Laurent Montclair was my ancestor. Great-great-great grandfather. Direct bloodline." My breath caught. "You're descended from one of Julian's previous victims." "And not just one. Found three others in these journals. All ancestors. All Alphas. All destroyed by Julian or his interference." He closed the book. "It's not random Lena. He's been targeting my bloodline for centuries. Systematically destroying it. And I'm the last one left." I stood up. Paced to the other side of the small room. Mind racing. Trying to piece it together. "But why? What did your bloodline do to him?"

“I was told to destroy this journal. I refused. Too many lives have been lost because the truth was buried.” My fingers tightened around the edge of the page. Whoever had written this had been afraid. I continued. “The First Blood Heir is not simply an heir to a throne. The child carries blood from two ancient Alpha lines. One line belongs to Blackthorn. The other belongs to a bloodline that the elders believed had disappeared.” I stopped. Blackthorn. Ronan's pack. My heart began beating faster. I read the sentence again. Two Alpha bloodlines. I thought about the portrait.

But I was too distracted to feel comforted. She leaned in close, her voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t make a scene, Diana. Trust me.” Her words were a gentle breeze in the chaos, but I was too busy trying to make sense of what was happening to heed her advice. “Topic: Supernatural Hierarchy and Transformation,” the second teacher, a pale woman with hair like silk and a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, announced. “There are three known bloodlines…. The Moon-Bound, the Hollow-Eyed, and the Burned Claw. Today, we discuss their rites of ascension…”

The next lines were messier, darker ink pressed deep into the paper. Moretti will protect you if he knows the truth. He will hate me for it, but he will keep you breathing. Because he doesn’t know what he is yet. And when he does, it will already be too late. Aria’s head shot up. “Luciano… this is about you.” His eyes narrowed. “Keep reading.” She did. The Moretti bloodline is not what they believe. It’s not pure Sicilian. It’s older. Hungrier. And if he takes you as his, you will be bound in ways neither of you can undo.

They had spent hours flipping through her father’s research, comparing the notes left by the Order with those in the journal, piecing together the truth. And finally, they had found it. A passage stood out, written in her father’s meticulous hand: "The final key to unraveling the altars lies within the bloodline itself. The path Elias carved still lingers, the seal remains, but only one of his own can unveil the truth. Beware those who still follow his path - some betray their own blood to seek what they should never have touched." Nicola’s breath caught in her throat. "The bloodline," she murmured.

Then, softer, almost unwillingly, “But history has been wrong before.” She paced once, restless. “There were whispers. Bloodlines thought extinguished. Children born outside the pack. Hidden in plain sight. Marked but unclaimed.” She stopped in front of me. “If this were a mistake,” she said, her voice darkening, “the power would have rejected you. It would have torn you apart.” My chest tightened. Fear crawled up my spine. “I’m scared.” Mira’s eyes locked onto mine. “The wolves you saw,” she said slowly, “silver, gold, red, black… those are not pack wolves. Those are ancient aspects. Guardians of bloodlines long buried.”

Edmund sat down opposite me, while Ashton remained standing. “There are four royal lines spread throughout Europe. The oldest family is yours. The second family is the Archambeau line, the third family is the Conrad line, and the fourth family is the Anselm line. The St. Claire line ruled in Scotland, and the Archambeau line still rules in France. The Conrad line rules in Germany, and the Anselm line rules in Denmark,” Edmund said. “My insanity comment hasn’t changed,” I said. Edmund regarded me carefully. Royal families? This man was delusional, and he was really convinced that I was this prince he was looking for. I could almost laugh at the absurdity of it all.