Blue Veins Under My Tongue Novels & Stories

He again explains what he'll be doing. I watch as his brows furrow as he concentrates on my palm. I look down to see the tool moving under my skin. The sight makes my stomach queasy. I mean the metal tool is under my damn skin! "Almost done. Once I finish under here, I'll give you something for your stomach." He says softer. I watch as the tool is removed and he opens a vial and pulls out a small green leaf. "Place it under your tongue, your queasy stomach will disappear." He explains the leaf to me.

His pupils were dilated, the whites of his eyes were covered with blue veins, his blue irises were surrounded by blood redlining that was slowly eating the blues of his eyes. At this time I was shaking with fear. My hands were trembling uncontrollably as my legs went numb. I didn't realize that I was breathing heavily. I could feel his rage and anger, the vexation I provided him. My eyes darted from his face and fell on his arm slowly afraid of what I might say, that was pinning me against the wall. Oh god! The veins of his arms were darker than blue, one could easily mistake it for black. They were spread throughout his arms like roots.

I froze. On my neck, green-grey like veins, like little tree branches, pursed on the skin at the corner of my neck. The veins seemed to be illuminated, pursing from within. Warming that area of my skin. My stomach knotted and tightened, and my breath hitched. Tension stretched and shot through me. It took everything not to gasp. At first, I was going to conclude that it was probably an infection powered by witchcraft, but I shook it off. It couldn’t be.

The band clattered into the stone bowl with a sound that made her stomach turn. What lay beneath made her want to cover her arm again on instinct. The skin over her wrist and forearm wasn’t smooth. Silver lines veined up from her palm in thick, branching paths, bright under the surface like molten metal caught just before bursting free. At some points, the flesh between those veins looked thin, like over‑stretched glass. Lysa hissed softly. “That’s… worse than I thought,” she murmured. “Seal’s not just cracked. It’s… filleted.”

he asked. I can see Alex's bite marks half curved into the shape of his teeth. But there was something odd, which I would not have noticed if Balthazar had not pointed it out to me. "What's that?" I whispered when I saw a small purple streak that came from the bite mark. Similar to veins but more conspicuous. That dampens your strength a bit. A kind of seal that's technically similar to mine before, but mine is meant to protect you ... whereas that one ... "

Ivy doesn't realize she's doing it; her head tilts to the side, exposing her neck. Vivian pauses with her lips less than an inch away from Ivy's neck. She gives in and closes the distance as her tongue darts out and licks her warm neck. The blood on her neck is cold, but her skin is warm. She feels the vein pulsing under her tongue and groans, wanting to sink her fangs into her flesh and taste her. She's dreamed of it many times. She wonders if she's as sweet as she thinks she would be.

Blaze, gripped by impatience, groaned, "You talk too much. Just do it, Goddammit!" Responding to the exigency, Dexter elongated his fangs with a swift motion, ready to drink from Blaze's neck, but Blaze intervened, "Do you have to feed from my neck? Use my wrist instead." Dexter scoffed, "For someone who is at the brink of death, you are pretty audacious. The internal jugular veins, vital conduits for blood, run discreetly on both sides of the neck. They mirror the path of the carotid arteries, offering a direct route to the heart. If I release the serum into these veins, it would swiftly reach the heart and circulate throughout the body, expediting its effects.

I put my hand on my forehead and waited for everything to stop moving. The black veins caught my eye. They were worse. So much worse. Yesterday, they had only been on my hands and wrists, creeping up my arms like dark little rivers under my skin. Now they had spread past my elbows. I could see them clearly through my nightgown, crawling up toward my shoulders. When I touched my neck, I felt the bumpy lines there too. They had reached my collarbone. I was running out of time.

“Drink.” I looked at the veins on his throat and I could see the blood pulsing under his pale skin. I could smell the luscious life-giving blood underneath, calling to me … I didn’t pause to wonder what was happening to me or what I was doing. Instead, I bared my teeth and sank them into the milky-white flesh of his neck.

Panic flashed in his eyes, pure, unfiltered panic. “What the hell… are you okay?” I knelt beside him, reaching out to help, but the moment my fingers brushed his skin, he jerked violently and vomited more blood. I pulled back, but my eyes stayed locked on his. Something was wrong. I looked down at my hand, still resting on his arm, and noticed the skin beneath my fingers. His veins were turning black, dark lines spreading out like cracks in glass. They kept moving, snaking up through his chest, his neck, his face, until they reached his eyes.