Bloodstained Dagger Novels & Stories

Alice POV “My blood?? What do you mean??” Without a word, the Dark Lord pulled out a similar, albeit slightly larger dagger. It was adorned with red, black, and purple gems almost everywhere. “You hand little wolf”, he said authoritatively. As in a trance, I found myself unable to ask any questions or to refuse. I simply extended my hand, which he sliced down the middle of my palm, red liquid pooling in it. “Five drops, directly onto the tip of the dagger”, he instructed. I did as I was told, and when completed, the dagger glowed in bright light temporarily. “You can touch it now, but not use its full power yet. It still demands your blood!”, the Dark Lord continued. His dagger was next to h

Miss Ophelia screams, unable to pull her knife up in time. I don’t think. I let Aria’s instincts take over. I drop into a crouch just as the beast leaps, its silver-tipped claws extending. I thrust the Silver Dagger upward. The blade catches the rogue mid-air, sinking deep into its chest. The ruby in the hilt flares with blinding, searing light. The silver fire erupts instantly, spreading from the wound like lightning. The rogue doesn’t even have time to hit the ground; it shrieks in agony, its cursed flesh charring to black ash before it collapses into a smouldering heap at my boots.

“Do you know what a Nephilim is, Konstantin? It is a child born of an angel laying with a human - this dagger is made up of the blood and ash of five hundred Nephilim infants ripped from their mother’s arms. That uncomfortable feeling in your chest telling you to flee is due to the dark magic and sin embedded in this weapon.” I look at Kai, positive that my horrified expression mirrored his and Cat’s. This is the weapon we’ll use; this dagger is made up of sin and death, and it’s the only thing that can kill a supernatural creature. She moves the box closer so we can see how it looks - inlaid in silk, it is made up of obsidian glass and spun metal, the hilt looks like silver, and the grip is

Julian added. "Are there any fingerprints on these daggers?" I asked. "No," Julian replied, donning a pair of gloves before picking up one of the blood-stained daggers. "These daggers are standard issue. You could buy them at any knife shop. The only distinction is they were coated with wolfsbane." The sight of the blood on the dagger was overwhelming, and I turned away, unable to bear looking at it any longer. At that moment, Ben entered the room. He looked disheveled, as if he hadn't cleaned himself for days, his eyes as bloodshot as Julian's.

“The only one who can stand against Malakar and survive. The dagger was forged for a moment like this—blood against blood. Shadow against shadow. Only you can wield it and deliver the final blow.” A strange stillness settled over me. Heavy, but not unwelcome. Like armor, I had always known I’d eventually wear. Dain scoffed quietly, shaking his head. “So let me get this straight—we’ve got a seer to find the thing, a stormborn Alpha to open the box, and a cursed bloodline meant to end it all?” “You make it sound like a doomed fairytale,” I said with a grim smile. “Maybe it is,” Dain muttered. “But I’m still in. If finding that dagger gives us a chance—I’ll lead you through it.”

He was more of a monster than the stories circulated in the shadows, a ruthless killer who relished control over others to do his bidding. Stepping out of the car, I gazed at the foreboding gray clouds overhead, a harbinger of impending rain. The scent of moist earth signaled the storm's approach, intensifying the gloom of the day. It seemed that this meeting with David Ross would only add to the darkness.

Blair noticed. And smiled. “You’re holding back,” Blair breathed, ducking another hit. “You’re afraid you’ll hurt them. That’s what makes you weak.” She slipped a hand under her cloak, drawing something gleaming. A dagger. The blade shimmered faintly in the light, a silver curve ending in a moonstone pommel. The air around it hummed with cold intent. Celeste’s blood ran cold. “Where did you...” Blair lunged. Celeste barely dodged the first strike, the dagger grazing her shoulder. She hit back, grabbing Blair’s wrist, forcing her backward toward the stairs. They struggled, boots slipping on shattered glass. The dagger flashed again, high, low, then high again.

It was gone in a heartbeat. “Then be the monster they made you, Vada Knox. Because today the Rogue Alpha and his mate are going to paint these walls red.” He released me and strode to the heavy oak chest in the corner. When he turned back he held two things: a wickedly curved silver dagger with runes etched along the blade, and a thin black leather sheath. “Phantom Wolves hate silver almost as much as regular wolves do,” he said, pressing the dagger into my palm. “This was forged from the blades of the ones I killed. Use it. Don’t hesitate.”

“You’re the last of the royal bloodline.” Silence rang through the cell. I blinked. Laughed. “That’s cute. Did you rehearse that?” Varian sighed. “You can deny it all you want. But your blood proves it.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a dagger. The blade gleamed in the torchlight—silver, edged with something darker. Before I could react, he pressed it against my palm and sliced. Pain flared. My blood welled up—deep crimson, threaded with faint streaks of gold.

Still riding on her man, she took the ruby and placed it on the other end of the dagger that had the opening, and the ruby fitted perfectly, making the dagger seem like a black crescent moon with a crown, only that this moon had carvings and wasn't so curved. Her head jerked backwards again as she faced the moon, her lips moving apart as she was about to reach the promised sexual destination, panting and gasping like someone in a two hundred meters race - a sex race. She raised the dagger with the ruby in it, and on meeting the rays of the moon the ruby glowed, almost becoming blinding as a frightened Diego's father still went on with the engagement, still holding his milk as his body stiffe