Bride Of Blood Novels & Stories

Luka had drawn his blade out of instinct, though it hung useless now at his side. Emilia turned back toward the rest of the council, her eyes glowing faintly red. “Anyone else feel the need to insult their queen?” Silence. No one moved. No one breathed. She swept her gaze across them like a blade. “You may dislike me. Fear me. Hate what I am,” she said coldly. “But you will not disrespect me. I am the Blood Bride, the one who walked into a coven of ancient witches and made it burn.” Her hand lifted slightly. The torches lining the walls flared.

“I will not defile my body prior to our wedding night. I will accept your blood gift if you will respect this.” Looking upon her he was satisfied that she was not like her father. She demanded respect and did not gravel before him like a frightened goat. A long smooth thin smile spread across his face. “My bride, I respect your request. Take my blood now.” He bit his wrist himself and presented it to her. Margaret reached up gently and took his wrist. She gently placed her cold lips onto his slit and inhaled the blood. Visions of throats being slashed, women being defiled and drained, men being speared and placed upon spikes, meals where her betrothed drank the blood of his victims in the pr

Her blood had flown so sweetly over the length of my arm and face, and the crowd gasped as I tossed her severed head into the dust just outside the hall where I had made sure to stand so there wouldn't be any more stragglers running up behind me. It would have been my thirteenth reason to fly into a blind rage, but I was doing this the nice way, the controlled way a King would, not the Lycan prince maverick I had been all those years ago before the curse. “There,” I heaved, just as the body keeled over, and the crowd scattered around the head, with a lone woman fainting in the frontlines so that she was carted off by well-meaning men.

’, I thought. . “In the same way, you are Master Cade’s bride.”, There are no mirrors in front of me but I knew the size of the eyes had grown in the shape of a melon. “But in werewolves, mates are paired by the Moon Goddess and here, Bride is chosen by the ruling King.” . Oh! . “King Black chose you as Master Cade’s bride assuming that you will also be strong and powerful just like your parents but it turned out that you are nowhere to them in terms of powers that’s why he wanted to get rid of you.”

The sun is shining. "Isn't she your girl?" Huh? Who? Me? My mind asked that because of confusion. “Yes. He is the one our schoolmates are talking about. They said they couldn't smell her blood so they didn't know if she is vampire blood or not," "Really?!" “Yes. And even if you smell the air, you won't smell anything from her except her perfume," "That's weird," "Bro, I didn't smell anything on her except her perfume," "Me too, I didn't smell her blood,"

His hands reach for me, his gaze fixed on my body like I exist for his pleasure. I pretend to give in, lowering myself toward him as he lies back. His fingers tilt my chin, bringing my lips toward his. That’s all it takes. In one swift motion, I grab my dagger hidden by the lampstand and drived it deep into his throat The moment the blade sank into his throat, he jolted up, eyes wide with shock. Panic set in as he stumbled toward the door, clutching his bleeding neck. Pathetic man. I moved fast, grabbing his arm before he could reach the handle. My grip tightened as I whispered, “You’re going nowhere.”

We bowed our heads as he began chanting the holy verses, ancient and melodic words of devotion to the goddess the vampires worshiped. This gathering, prayer, and worship. Everything felt strange, but Carlos standing by my side made it all familiar. I tried to mimic him, though my thoughts kept drifting to Lena, to Freya, and to the weight of the future bearing down on both of us. After several minutes of long prayer, the priest approached with a silver tray. Two crystal glasses of crimson liquid rested atop of it. “The ritual is completed with a blood offering.” The priest announced, his voice echoing in the vast temple. “Through it, the blessings of Goddess Sanguis flow into the bond of the

Stupid ass brother! Stepping out of the house, Sheila linked her arm around mine, clinging onto me and making me smile. It was a very cool evening and the sun was already starting to set. The Italian nightlife was already kicking off with various traders swarming the streets and selling their products. Somehow, I wasn't still able to fully take my eyes off my little, redhead wife. She was so stunning. "What?" She laughed, noticing my stares. I quickly plucked off a rose from a nearby shop, smiling down at her and pinning it to her hair. As expected, her face turned red almost instantly and she literally buried her face in my chest, while I chuckled in amusement.

Ancient blood. Someone old enough to remember Zenaida. Someone dangerous enough not to hide from Malrik. Someone who wanted me. And someone who damn well knew how to send a message. She handed Malrik another piece of paper. Folded cleanly. Carefully. The kind of fold people use when they want to show respect… or claim ownership. He unfolded it. Drayan leaned in beside him. I stepped closer. The message was short: “You took what belonged to us. Bring the bride. Or we take the child’s sister next.”

She left me there, alone with the storm and the silent portraits and the single star that had dared to appear once the eclipse passed. It hung above the manor like a cold white eye, watching. I stared back with my strange, mismatched gaze and made no sound. But something inside me (something small and feral and already wounded) opened its eyes too. And it remembered everything. –––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– Years later, when the bards sang of the night the Black Serpent’s Bride was born, they would speak of omens: ravens falling dead from the sky, rivers running backward, a wolf seen walking the battlements on two legs.