Brother Blood Arrow Novels & Stories

But this time around, something was off the balance and I was going to get to the root of it. My eyes scanned the square, looking for him. That’s when I saw him. He looked bigger than all of them. Almost my size. His armor was shining gold unlike others that were dull bronze. He wasn’t even fighting, just firing arrows, with a calm demeanor. He targeted Caine who was fiercely fighting and shot the arrow towards him. As much as Caine irritated the hell out of me, he was still my brother. I couldn’t bear to see my brother die before me. Before the arrow could get to Caine, I pushed him aside. The both of us fell to the ground.

…Alpha Rowland's pov .. I couldn't shake off the sense of foreboding that settled over me as the news of a surprise attack on my brother reached my ears. Alpha Robert, my half-brother from the Black Blood Pack, was known for his ruthlessness and hunger for power. Our packs had long been entangled in a bitter rivalry, fueled by an ancestral feud that seemed impossible to mend. Bur

The unexpected assassination struck the Quantz family, catching the three brothers off-guard within their own stronghold. The crack of the crossbow bolts echoed as they struck, their piercing impact demonstrating their deadly efficiency. Desperate to protect their father, the brothers moved forward, only to find themselves overwhelmed by the onslaught of arrows. With a sickening thud, the eldest brother was struck in the calf, blood staining the floor as the arrow pierced his flesh. Despite their best efforts, the oldest and second brothers could only fend off the attack with their blades, unable to prevent the assault entirely.

I blurted, urgency propelling me away from the group and toward the door. Grappling with my mounting dread, I swung open the door—only to be confronted with a scene that froze my blood. Bryan lay sprawled on the floor, lifeless, a sinister arrow embedded in his throat. Blackened feathers fletched the shaft, and a chilling parchment affixed to it fluttered ominously in the draft of the room. My breath caught in my throat as I approached, horror washing over me in waves. The message, written in what appeared to be blood, sent a shard of ice through my heart. It read: The Brothers of Vengeance will kill the one you hold dear.

“I want to hit this fucker hard and fast and take away everything he’s ever worked for. I want to send the word out that no one touches what’s mine. Timothy Flynn made his last mistake this morning when he took my woman.” Roman thrust his hand into the circle the five of them made. Sazon put his hand on top of Roman’s, soon Barshan and Yuri’s hands joined the others. Finally, Mikial’s hand topped theirs. Then all five chanted, “We are brothers by choice, blood has brought us together and holds us strong. Brothers we are and brothers we will always be.”

Nyra stared at the screen blankly for a few seconds before raising an eyebrow, “Why am I looking at a picture of Professor Moore?” Elara turned her head sharply to her friend, tears pooling in her eyes, “That's my brother” Nyra inhaled loudly, the sound harsh in the quiet of the room, like she’d been punched in the chest. “What the fuck.”

Arrows flew from my brother’s bow, their tips glazed with frost. Two wolf guards collapsed instantly—throats pierced, dead before their bodies hit the snow. My brother Vincent stepped over them, robes black, eyes colder than winter. Magic hissed on his skin like live wire. Behind him rolled a carriage of gilded ebony, the Blood Prince’s crest—an imperial eagle clutching a bloodstone crown. An arrow sliced past Seraphina’s ear and sheared off a lock of her hair.

The weight of what we’d just learned sat heavy in the car like smoke. Vittorio. My father’s brother. My uncle. The man who taught me how to shoot when I was twelve. The man who stood beside my father at every family meeting, every funeral, every deal. The man who’d looked me in the eye at our wedding and called the marriage “a disgrace that would weaken us.” I gripped the wheel tighter until my knuckles ached. Alessio’s hand settled over mine on the gear shift—warm, steady. “You’re shaking,” he said quietly.

"I told you we escaped through a drainage lot. I told you Dante got hurt. But I never mentioned my arm. I haven't even let the medic touch it yet. How did you know it was broken, Congo?" Congo's eyes snapped to the rearview mirror, his brow furrowed as a dark, defensive anger flushed across his face. "What exactly are you trying to say, Sophia? How dare you even think I would want to endanger my brother's life?" "I'm just asking a question, Congo," I said, my voice tight, refusing to back down under his glare. "How did you know?" "I am his brother, Sophia!" Congo shouted, his voice booming inside the tight space of the SUV, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. "I share his blood