Bounty Hunter Bloods Hand Signs Novels & Stories

she nodded, a hint of satisfaction in her voice. With a deliberate motion, she extended her hand and drew a dagger across her index finger. To everyone’s surprise, her blood floated into the air, forming a single drop that shimmered in the light. “Please contribute your blood to the oath,” she instructed, handing the dagger to the nearest person.

Ava's hand trembled in mine, and I gave it a reassuring squeeze, trying to calm her nerves. The priestess held up a small, ornate dagger, its blade glinting in the flickering torchlight. With a swift motion, she pricked our thumbs, and a tiny drop of blood welled up on each. She then pressed our thumbs together, and our blood mingled, symbolizing the unbreakable bond between us.

I dragged his limp body across the altar, lifting him up, and hung his corpse directly onto the large wooden cross on the wall, letting his blood stain the sacred stones. I turned and walked slowly toward the exit of the church. As I reached the doors, I paused, calmly raising my bloody right hand. With a sigh, I made the sacred prayer sign over my chest. Then, I casually brushed my bloody fingers across my own cheek and jaw, smearing the crimson warmth over my face. The game was just beginning.

He stuttered, now trembling visibly, “Traditional ways?” “Yes,” I murmured, squinting at the blade to check just how neat it was. “We can sign the agreement with a fountain pen. I have one here. Or,” I leaned in closer, my nose almost touching his, “we can sign with your blood. As you can see, I have my knife ready, so, your choice.” I could see the fear in his dilated pupils, but the stupid man wanted to act macho in the face of danger. I wouldn’t advise anyone to do that. “I said I won’t sign any—“ he started to scream, but I interrupted him.

The one goon approached them and tried to snatch that girl but next a shriek heard by everyone Falcone's dagger swung in the air and the man's hand separated from his side and fell away. Seeing this, the whole atmosphere got heated, the terror of fear spread. One hand of Falcone was holding the girl's head, the other hand held a dagger. More goons tried to attack but Falcone signed at his tattooed hand. The Goons were shocked seeing the tattoo, their eyes widened in horror as they eyed the tattoo of Phoenix which signifies he was the man of that group.

I gritted out, annoyed. "Yes, actually." He answered and I turned to him. "I have something to show you." He said and indicated for me to follow. I walked with Callum to the pack borders and pure rage filled me as I stared at the scene before me. One of my warriors who had been on patrol laid lifeless on the floor, blood pooled by his side where he was obviously stabbed with a silver blade. Using his blood, there was a single phrase on the floor. 'HAND HER OVER' .

“Okay, how do we do this?” I extend my fangs and raise my hand to my mouth, quickly slicing a gash in my palm. I use my left hand, because my right still bears the scar where I forged this bond with Hugo, and I can’t bear to mark over it. Hot, sticky blood seeps from the wound, and I offer my bleeding paw to Roger. He follows suit, biting his own palm and letting the blood pool forth before taking my hand in his.

My hand bleeds reddish from the cut sustained due to the fierce force of compressing the glass cup. Her eyes widened with shock and her mouth gasped with disbelief that she covered it up. "Don, you bleed!" She rushed up to me, however, I grip her hand firmly, open the bleeding hand and soak her thumb into it. Her frame slightly hardened on my grasp as she was reluctant to yield. That coaxed a spit of anger out of me, "My blood is more precious than the ink in my signature, Wifey. I only need your fingerprint on it, and so does mine." I declared and forcefully paint the Contract with both my fingerprint and hers.

Bones made a dull sound. Blood flowed from my forehead into my eyes. Everything turned red. Before I fell unconscious, I still held Fenrir tightly. But back then he couldn't see. He refused to see. My sleeve was torn, revealing a deep purple mark. It was the brand of "Betrayal Blood Contract." Only those who had truly sworn a blood oath would be marked with this soul-searing curse. And the content of blood oaths could never be spoken aloud. Damien's hand was still shaking. That slap seemed to have shattered something inside him too.

she asked. "A tradition in my family. Rarely used anymore. It’s symbolic more than legal, but... it means something”, He produced a gold pen, handed it to her, and then pricked his finger with a needle. A single drop of crimson hit the page. "We sign in blood?" "Only if you’re serious”, Elena stared at the parchment. Her heart thudded. Every instinct in her body told her this was irreversible. Not the paper. Not the blood. The meaning.