Bloody Vengeance Novels & Stories

He looked as shell shocked as I was and I reminded myself that he was as much the enemy as his father was. After all, the apple doesn't fall far from the three. My vengeance would continue as planned, and Zane would go down with his father. My name is Aya Jacobs and I'm the machete of Justice on all who wronged me. I won't stop till they're all six feet under.

She was a tigress cornered, furious and defiant, stunning even in her disheveled defeat. For a long moment, I just watched. The rise and fall of her chest, trembling with exertion and rage. The faint smear of blood at her temple where she’d hit the wheel. And most intoxicating of all—the fire in her eyes, still untamed, refusing to dim even as reality pressed against her. God help me, I’d never wanted anything more. “Run,” I said softly, letting the word linger like a challenge. Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing at me, wild and dangerous.

For the first time in years my pulse flutters wildly beneath my skin, and the confidence I always wear like armor cracks down the middle. “No, fuck, please don't, don't do this to me lex, stay with me!” She isn't moving, and her bleeding isn't stopping. The figure shifting from distance catches my attention quickly and I pick my gun from the side, grinding my teeth hard, shooting right at the back of his head. He deserves worse, but Alexa not dying is my priority. The slight shift in my arms doesn't let me watch as he falls to his death. “Ethan?” “I’m here, I’m here, stay awake with me hmm, the ambulance is on their way.”

Thick, dark alpha blood was dripping steadily through his fingers, staining the white flagstones. Vespera Crowe stared at the Alpha with bloodshot, unhinged eyes, her chest heaving with absolute fury that her strike hadn't severed his life. “I’ll slaughter your entire bloodline! I’ll rip the heart out of every Blackthorne!” she screamed, her voice completely consumed by the madness of her rogue shift as she tried to wrench the knife from his iron grip to strike again. She was completely beyond the reach of reason; she wouldn't stop until the floor was covered in blood.

oden said to one of his guards, his voice echoing. Vanessa stepped backward alongside Malia, both their eyes trembling not wanting to face Annabelle. Vanessa's forehead perspired, rivulets of sweat populating her brows. They then stopped, they couldn't move any further. Their knees weakened, their legs joint free, no longer supporting their body weight. Vanessa kneels and then Malia. Duke Frenger envelopes the frightened crowd. He quickly grabs a sword from the floor, rushing towards Annabelle with the gait of a warrior, his sword raised up high, aiming to cut off Annabelle's neck.

I glance at the guy and I am ready to lash out and explain myself to him. The guy is wearing a sky blue long sleeve polo that has been folded until his elbow. He locked his gazes to me reason why I stared to him too. Foreign features is evident from his eyes, I am sure that he is not a pure Filipino. His eyes are blue and his pouty lips are screaming hotness with expensiveness on his look. I am still staring at the guy when the manager suddenly grabbed my arm gently and pull closer to him. ‘’Miss Caroline, it will be better if you cooperate now.’’ The manager whispered and smiled to the guy in front of us.

“This antique vase was sold to Ms. Isabelle for 150 million dollars. All the proceeds from the auction will be donated to homeless people and children.” A loud cheering resonated through the whole ballroom. Anna beamed in ecstasy as she obliquely participated in the event. However, it took only one second for the cheerful, laughter-filled atmosphere to devolve into havoc. A loud gunshot rolls throughout the ballroom. People were screaming and running out of the ballroom. “Damn it! Anna!” Ibrahim yelped out loud.

I ordered to be chained down—alone in the dungeon—to keep my pack safe. So I trust no one. Not even myself. “Wait,” I growled, nostrils flared up as I picked up a strange scent of blood, mixed with lavender and something faintly… feminine. I quickly reached for my dagger as we stepped closer to the direction where the smell was coming from. Then I saw her. Curled at the root of a tree, bruised, bloodied, and barely breathing. Her clothes were ripped, her stomach and thighs was stained with dried blood, and thick red marks lined her back in neat, cruel rows.

He tore up the courtyard. Marcus didn't use weapons. He used his bare hands. He lunged at the remaining silver-clad invaders like a demonic beast. He ripped throats out. He tore limbs from torsos. He crushed skulls against the stone walls. The courtyard became a slaughterhouse of screaming men and spraying blood. He channeled all the agony of his son's betrayal and his mate's agonizing screams into unadulterated destruction. His own guards backed away in terror. Marcus Vance had lost his mind to the blood-lust. By the time the last enemy warrior was a broken corpse, Marcus was drenched in crimson. He panted, his chest heaving, his claws dripping.

Damon choked, trying one last, pathetic attempt to break Vladimir’s focus with a taunt about my vulnerability. Words. Lies. Noise. He is noise. He is irrelevant. The only truth is the steel in my hand and the debt in my soul. Irina. Isabella. Children. The sequence of vengeance is simple. Kill the threat. Protect the future. Vladimir didn't answer. He drove his knee into Damon’s kidney with brutal, controlled force. Damon bucked, his body arching in immediate, agonizing surrender. Vladimir released the crushing embrace only to lash out with his combat knife.