Bloodstained: Curse Of The Moon Chronicles Novels & Stories

The dawn came crimson, the sky veined with fire. Lena stood at the balcony of her chamber, the pendant at her throat pulsing faintly in rhythm with her heartbeat. The forest below was unnaturally still; not a single bird stirred, not a whisper of wind moved the pines. It was the calm before something vast and final. The Blood Moon had risen. Tonight, the curse would either break or consume them both. Damien had vanished before sunrise, leaving only a note, written with the same precision and restraint that had defined his every gesture:

*The Blood Moon is rising. Luna looked up. Through the cracks in the mountain, the sky had begun turning red. Selene stood beside her. "That's not normal." "No." The First Moon's expression became serious. "The Blood Moon marks the final stage." "Final stage of what?" "The curse." Luna frowned. "I thought we broke it." "You broke the first seal." "There's more?" "There are three." Kael walked toward them. "How many have we broken?" "One." He sighed. "Of course."

The movement exposes more of his chest, the ridges of muscle painted with the sun’s golden hue, and I quickly avert my eyes, flustered and unsure. He doesn’t look at me as he speaks again, his voice quieter now, as though he’s confessing a burden too heavy to carry alone. "You’ve probably heard the stories... the rumors. The cursed second prince. They call it the Blood Moon Curse. Every full moon, I lose myself. The shift takes over completely... no reason, no control. Just pain, bloodlust... madness. Even when the moon wanes, the shadows remain... haunting dreams, physical agony, moments I don’t remember. Last night could’ve been... a disaster."

Like something deep beneath the foundation had started to wake, and it didn’t know whether to stretch or scream. I reached into my trunk and pulled out my satchel of ward tools: chalk, silver thread, salt-stone beads, and my notebook. This job was already messier than it looked. And it looked damn messy. But I was here now. Contract-bound. Fully paid. Ready to unravel whatever the hell kind of curse, seal, or secret was bleeding through the leyline web of this ancient vampire lair. I just hoped Lord Eternal Gloom would get around to introducing himself before something exploded. Again.

He stood in the doorway, chest heaving, his scarlet eyes glowing unnervingly in the dark. He looked like a beast fresh from a kill, still on the ragged edge of a rampage. The servants trembled in fear, none daring to approach. This was when his “Blood Moon Curse” was at its most volatile. The slightest trigger could make him lose control completely. But I couldn’t back down. I took a deep breath and walked toward that source of danger, carrying a bundle of healing herbs. “Get out.” Damon snarled, his voice raw and broken.

My blood hummed something I didn’t understand The moon was watching and listening. And I stood by her— watching her fall. Every time Astrid strikes, the moon bleeds and the world trembles. Every time she avenges, a piece of the moon goddess fades away. The curse fed on her anger and her pain. It grows inside her heart like a second soul attached to her very existence, and I witnessed it. I told myself I was protecting her. The moon was wrong tonight. The moon was watching differently Tonight. The moonlight bleeds like a wound that will never heal. The blood moon has awakened, and the curse bears Astrid’s name.

And I was going to find it. My fingers brushed against an old leather-bound journal tucked between thick volumes of pack history. I opened it, feeling the spine creak, and revealed spidery handwriting that was decades old. These pages spoke of some "Blood Moon curse" with a very unclear origin and of some kind of artifact called Owlshard.

I didn't think such a book would contain something powerful than I thought. According to the ancient wisdom in the book, 'if a cherished deceased wolf is bathed under the moonlight with the blood of her parents, a miraculous resurrection will unfold.' That ends the paragraph. My eyes opened and I understood to some extent how that could be of use. Since the blood can bring about resurrection, 'What will happen to the person that his/her blo od is extracted?' I couldn't really answer that question. I am more than confused at this point.

I mumbled. He turned around and looked at her legs, touching them. Xavier did his best to control himself. "She was bit by a forsaken," Lucas announces, pointing to a mark on her thigh. I look at it and it was indeed a forsaken bite. Their bites are extremely venomous and can kill even adult wolves in a matter of minutes, even alphas. You can tell the difference between the bites in human form because the skin started to decay. My heart drops. Forsaken wounds were impossible to cure, even if you were an alpha or alpha heir. Only the Moon Goddess herself could save you if you had been bitten or scratched deep enough. "She probably won't last any longer than a few hours. Who is she?"

Echoes of the Blood Moon The storm outside had subsided, yet within the Moon Temple, the atmosphere felt even more oppressive—saturated with whispers, ancient energy, and a foreboding that none of them completely comprehended. Luna stood at the heart of the chamber, her breathing slow but irregular as the crimson glow of the Blood Moon pulsed faintly beneath her skin. The mark on her collarbone blazed like a living flame, and each heartbeat resonated through the stone like a distant drum.