Bloodstone Villain Novels & Stories

Adriana stammered out a question as she was surprised and embarrassed by the gesture. “This is a bloodstone,” he replied. “It is made when a wolf infuses their blood essence into a regular stone and with this on your neck, I will always know where you are and if you are ever in danger, I'll sense it through my blood essence in the stone and I'll come running to you no matter where you are.”

The process was complex and dangerous, requiring a deep understanding of the dark magic involved. But Harrion was nothing if not meticulous. He spent years perfecting the ritual, testing the amulet’s power, and refining the drug. Finally, after countless trials, he succeeded. The Bloodstone Amulet may not be whole, only a fragment, a small part of the whole, whose other pieces were scattered around the lands and seas, its surface glowed with a faint red light, its power pulsing. With the amulet around his neck, Harrion could feel the connection it created between him and the puppets that would soon fall under his control.

On the screen was the progress bar, now at one hundred percent. My stomach dropped. The phone wasn't dead. The satellite phone was dead, but she had my burner phone. She had retrieved it. The device in her pocket wasn't just a detonator. It was a signal booster. She had been hijacking my attempts to send the file, pulling the data to her own device. "Checkmate, Natalia," she whispered. The name hung in the air between us. A key, a curse, and a catalyst all at once.

The High Priest stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he were carrying the weight of the pack’s entire history in his gnarled hands. He held the Bloodstone aloft, and even from several feet away, I could feel the thrum of it. It wasn't just a rock; it was a hungry, ancient thing that vibrated at a frequency that made my teeth ache. Thomas stood to the side, his arms crossed, a smug mask of righteousness covering the rot I knew lived underneath. The purple glow in his pocket was faint, but to my Luna-tuned eyes, it was a beacon of filth.

Rain hammered against the city like a thousand angry fists. From the twenty-third floor of a rundown apartment building, Seraphina Vale watched the storm swallow the skyline. The city never slept. It lied. It cheated. It buried secrets beneath towers of glass and steel. And somewhere among those towers stood the man she hated most. Damian Blackwood. The name alone made her jaw tighten. At twenty-eight, he was already one of the youngest billionaires in the country. CEO of Blackwood Holdings. Media darling. Ruthless businessman.

He shakes his head in foreboding. “Wait a minute.” I insist, the gears turning rapidly in my head as I begin to pace back and forth across the small room. “Mordred and James… Modred and James,” I mutter under my breath. “Who else would know how to break someone out of the prison, but a member of the family?” I think aloud. “James has been up to no good for months now: He tried to rig the pack games, he kidnapped Viviane, he’s done everything in his power to undermine me.” Chase is on his feet too now, clearly catching on to my train of thought. “James has the money, power and connections to work with the Bloodstones. He had no moral compass, inside access to the packs lowest criminals, and t

Without protection, a vampire could compel any human close to me and I could be compelled, too. Raven closed her eyes as she held my hand and extended her other hand over the stones. "Siramacha brenach bondagia compage, siramacha brenach bondagia compage, siramacha brenach bondagia compage." She opened her eyes, clearly drained. She reached down and picked up one of the stones, placed it in my hand, then curled my fingers around it. "Make sure to carry this with you at all times." I nodded and looked down at the stone. I could definitely see why it was called Bloodstone. It looked like blood had been splashed into a sea of green, then frozen into a stone.

The lady whose eyes were shaking a while ago, stood tall and spoke without emotion. "Why?" I asked as I sat down on the chair. This is going to take a while. "Just like you, vengeance runs deep in my blood." "...." I looked at her coldly, waiting for her to continue. "I will avenge my mother and sit on that golden damn throne." She smirked wickedly as greed glistened in her eyes. "You're not worthy of the crown." Kian hissed in anger and tried to intimidate the once meek lady but surprisingly, she remained unfazed.

Eirlys POV: My heart nearly stopped dead in my chest. “What is that?” I whispered, staring at the glowing thing. Rhydian looked up at me from where he knelt. “The Bloodstone.” “I’ve never heard of it,” I said. “You weren’t supposed to,” he replied simply. His gaze shifted toward the hallway where Auren was standing. “It only responds to descendants of House Drakhar.” My stomach dropped like a rock. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

And Seraphina understood that game perfectly. “Lady Elena.” A deep voice interrupted her thoughts. Elena turned calmly. Victor Hale. One of the Vale Group board executives. Late forties. Elegant smile. Dead eyes. The kind of man who looked trustworthy enough to ruin lives professionally. He lifted his champagne glass politely. “You seem healthier tonight.” Translation: You don’t look close enough to death for us to replace you yet. Elena smiled faintly. “Disappointing, I know.” Victor laughed softly.