Novel & Cerita Broken Bloodlines Series

But it didn’t stop Maevin from adding, “The last maiden lost the child yesterday, it didn’t survive past the first moon.” Outside the palace walls, Arkenholt was dying. The trees withered in their roots, rivers ran low, and children were born with weak lungs and weaker hearts. His people needed an heir—a direct descendant of the royal bloodline, one born of his seed and strength. But the gods had grown silent, turning each attempt into a blood bath of miscarriages and sometimes the death of the maiden. Maevin took a step forward, upholding a reverent calm, as if speaking to a wounded god. “The people grow restless, they need hope, they need proof that the king's blood is not cursed.”

“Didn’t you? You touched his mind. You dragged him into this place—” “He stands where all who resist me stand,” the figure said. “On the edge of being unmade.” My knees weakened. Kael. Unmade. The word echoed like a blade inside my ribs. “You’re lying.” My voice cracked. “You’re trying to break me.” “I am trying to prepare you,” he said, stepping closer. “You are the daughter of the first bloodline. You were never meant to remain mortal. You were never meant to love one of them.”

For the first time since arriving, he sounded tired. “The problem is that impossible things keep happening.” Nobody argued with that. Because looking around, impossible seemed to be the theme of our lives. My mother continued. “When the Bloodline chooses an heir, it usually settles inside one person.” Her gaze moved between Lucien and me. “This time it didn’t.” The meaning hit me immediately. The Bloodline had split not because something went wrong but because it chose to. My stomach dropped. “You’re saying…” My voice faded. I couldn’t even finish the sentence.

I’d flip the whole damn thing over. I was curled into the corner of the pink plush sofa, knees tucked to my chest, the fluffiest white blanket I’d ever touched draped lazily over my shoulder and down my body. It swallowed my barely-there shorts and oversized T-shirt whole, cocooning me in warmth while the rest of the world faded into nothing but pages and ink. Tragedies of True Hearts. I bit my lip, failing to suppress a giggle as I read—the slow-burn enemies finally cracking, confessions spilling out after chapters of tension and denial. One reckless, emotional night where everything finally unraveled.

My voice broke as I spoke. “This is the Riverend Pack. Sarah here, found you half dead the morning after the blood moon pack was attacked. I guess you are from there,” she asked. I nodded slightly, groaning in pain. The conversations that followed left my heart broken. Hours turned to days, days turned to weeks, and weeks to years. Every day I thought of ways to avenge the death of my family. I grew up in Riverend till it was time to head back to the blood moon pack. This time, not alone but with an army to take back what rightfully belonged to me.

"We are perfect together. The Laurent and Moreau bloodlines…” "Fuck the bloodlines," Ethan cut in, his voice dangerously low. "I do not give a shit about bloodlines or alliances or whatever the fuck our fathers have cooked up." Alexandra's eyes widened. "You do not mean that." "I absolutely mean it." Ethan turned to face the window, putting physical distance between them. "Don't you think you deserve better than someone who does not want you?" Her laugh was brittle. "Better than you? There is no better than you, Ethan. That is the point."

Nathan quickly interjected with tangible vexation at the sound of my father's choice of words, earning himself a scowl from him. "You shut up," He swiftly bit back at him with a pointed look, making him bristle as he peered between the two of us, but thankfully didn't continue arguing. Blowing out a tired sigh, my father lowered himself into a crouching position so that he could be at the same eye-level with me, resting his elbows over his knees as he started to explain, "Carina, we're...You, and me and your sister, we're not humans either. We share an ancient bloodline, the shaman bloodline. Our veins are filled with magic,"

“I was told to destroy this journal. I refused. Too many lives have been lost because the truth was buried.” My fingers tightened around the edge of the page. Whoever had written this had been afraid. I continued. “The First Blood Heir is not simply an heir to a throne. The child carries blood from two ancient Alpha lines. One line belongs to Blackthorn. The other belongs to a bloodline that the elders believed had disappeared.” I stopped. Blackthorn. Ronan's pack. My heart began beating faster. I read the sentence again. Two Alpha bloodlines. I thought about the portrait.

“I’m here.” Gerald throws Draven off, blood running down his arm but healing already. “Clone, upgraded, faster healing, you can’t kill me, not without killing the line.” “The line dies with you,” I say. “Then the babies die too,” he says. “Blood law, remember, three Hollow heirs, you, me, Rowan, one has to go for them to live, and it won’t be me.” He lunges for me. Caiden fires. One shot, from the ground, from a soldier’s dropped gun.

Even though Malrick was from Mistborn Coven he has the ability to command water, wind and fire. Before everyone knew it we were all fighting, killing each other. At the end Malrick was killed with his entire coven and a single Bloodline of Lycans was ended also. That bloodline was the Crimson Lycan line. They ruled the southern half of our world. While Blake’s line, the Bloodmoon line had come out victorious. at one point they ruled the northern half.