Bounty Hunter Bloods Hand Signs Novels & Stories

I asked, my voice rising in alarm. He didn't answer right away, instead, he extended his hand toward me, the blood still dripping from his palm. "Cut your hand," he said simply. "Rub your blood on mine. It's a blood oath. I need you to prove how desperate you are. How sincere you are." My heart pounded in my chest, and I recoiled instinctively. "I'm not doing that!" I protested, my voice trembling. Blood oaths were serious, sacred. They weren't something to be taken lightly.

His mouth doesn't move, but I can hear his voice, loud and clear. “Your last supper!” I spit, my eyes darting around expectantly but no one comes. He releases a low growl before lunging for me, claws swiping at the air, aimed at my chest. I turn on my heels and race down the alley, hissing in pain as his claws meet the skin on my back. “Just a few drops of your blood, and my senses feel sharpened,” He lets out a low growl, and I hear him lunge for me again.

The blood sizzled as it touched the symbols, emitting a faint glow that spread across the platform. "Now, Ailith, you must do the same," Thalion instructed, his voice steady and calm. I took the dagger from him, the cool metal sending a shiver down my spine. With a deep breath, I mirrored his action, slicing my palm and letting my blood mingle with his on the stone. The symbols flared brighter, pulsating with a life of their own.

I waited patiently until she had jotted down her conditions, then she turned the paper to me. “Would this be to your satisfaction?” She asked. I leaned forward to read the agreement she had set up and nodded when I was finished. “It looks alright to me.” I said and Queen Ayesha handed me a knife. I stared at it in confusion and took in from her slowly. “You must sign in with your blood.” She said. “If you go back on your deal, I can use that blood sample to enforce the contract.” I placed the dagger in my hand and made a small cut on my palm. A few droplets of blood came out and I smeared it on the paper.

Inside, the air is thick with the smell of spilled ale, wet wool, and the faint copper tang of old blood. The bounty hunter sits alone at a corner table. Broad shoulders under a travel-worn cloak the color of dried blood. A single iron ring on his left hand—simple, unadorned, but etched with a faint halo sigil that glows dimly when he flexes his fingers. His name is Garrick Vane. Once a templar of the Eastern Order. Now something else. Something that still carries the Church’s coin and the Church’s warrants.

I didn’t need a blueprint. I just needed to follow the sound of the hearts I was protecting. THE END OF BLOOD AND BETRAYAL

But this is Orion we're talking about, and if he’s willing to go to any length to take the only thing that matters to me, then I'll break all my ruke to get to him first. I stretch my palm towards Theron. He gives me a knowing look, like he's asking if I'm sure. I nod back. Immediately, he pulls a slender silver blade from his belt, and drags it across my palm with a sigh. The pain rips through me, but I hold it in. Drops of my blood hit the edge of the scroll, and it hisses, like it’s alive. The thread tying it unwinds, and we see a rough map inside. It's a red moon sigil painted over our lands, the Bloodmoon Pack territory. And under it, some words are scrawled in an old language:

“Do you swear to defend, honor, and protect all members of this pack?” “I do.” “As Alpha of the Red Moon Pack, with a cut on my hand and the cut on your hand, our joining of bloody palms signifies your official joining to the Red Moon Pack.” Alpha Callan dragged the dagger across the palm of his hand blood slowly started to trickle out. I raised my hand and he grabbed my hand. A calming sensation moved through my body from his touch. He made a similar small cut across the palm of my hand. I winced slightly at the cut but tried to keep my face straight.