Buried Bloodline Build Novels & Stories

The memory of the Shade resurfaced, the way the darkness had swallowed me whole, the way it had felt alive. My hands trembled. The old man continued, his voice grim. “The Bloodborn were hunted to extinction. The alphas of the past feared them, feared what they could become. The few who survived hid their lineage, their power. They blended in with the rest of the wolves, their blood diluted over generations.” I sucked in a sharp breath. “Then why am I—” “Because some bloodlines cannot be erased,” the old woman said softly. “Yours has awakened.”

"But such power draws envy. And envy breeds treachery." Lydia felt a strange prickling sensation at the back of her neck, like someone walking over her grave. "This is just a myth," Ethan said, but his voice lacked conviction. "All myths have seeds of truth," the Keeper replied. "The Shadowbreed were not always as you saw them. They were once wolves like any other, but they chose a different path, one of darkness and corruption. They sought to harness the power of the soul-bonds for themselves, to twist it to their own purposes."

There were always two lines from the original bloodline—I see it now in the visions that crash through my consciousness like waves against a cliff. One branch bowed to Nyx'Thal, accepted the compact, and became the dutiful vessels for generations. But Luna Blackwood, the sister whose name was scrubbed from every record, chose differently. She gathered followers who believed the compact was a trap, not salvation. When the massacre came—because it always comes for those who refuse to kneel—she used forbidden magic to hide her essence, weaving it into her own bloodline before it merged with the main family through marriage generations later.

“No. I won’t let him steal what’s mine.” “You mean ours,” my father says. My jaw tightens. “No. Mine.” Sebastian speaks, his voice rough. “Even if we expose Carlos, it won’t be enough. Not if the pack’s scared.” “Then we give them something to believe in,” I say. “Something stronger than fear.” “Like what?” my father asks. I hesitate. Then I say it. “Me.” They both look at me, surprised. “I’m done waiting for approval. Done playing by their rules. I’ll show them I’m worthy of the bloodline.”

“That truth broke him. He lost his tether. He became a lost wolf and gave in to the chaos inside. Nothing left but blood and madness.” Soren’s face twisted, disbelief clashing with the pieces of memory he didn’t want to admit lined up too well. “No. No—you’re lying. You killed him because he was a threat to your power. Because you wanted the title.” Damon’s jaw locked. He let the silence stretch until even the wind seemed to hush. “He came for me. He wanted to tear apart the Abandoned. To burn it all down because of his grief. I put him down because he gave me no choice. That blood has been on my hands for years. I carry it every day.”

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.”

Through the crowd, I saw Richard lurking in the building’s shadow. No surprise there. He never could support the household with his wages before; I’d been paying for everything, giving them a good life. Of course, he wouldn’t let a cash cow like me go. Without his planning, Vanessa wouldn’t have dared do this. Vanessa tugged my sleeve again. “Hurry. Give me some money. I’m not asking for much—just two million. Give me two million, and I promise I won’t trouble you again.” “Really shooting for the stars, huh?” I muttered.

“About Adrian.” My heart stops. “The turning,” Vera says gently. “It’s not permanent. Not completely.” I stare. “What do you mean?” “There’s a cure,” Lucira says. “One cure. The blood of the true mate, willingly given under the Bloodline Eclipse. Royal hybrid blood offered with love can burn the sire bond away forever.” I sit up too fast, head spinning. “You’re saying if I give him my blood during the eclipse…” “He’ll be free,” Vera finishes. “Human again. Or as close as he can get.”

He leaned back in his chair, a rare loosening of the formal posture, and looked at her the way he had looked at her at the Goldenridge tree line, with the puzzle expression that had more in it than assessment. "What I've been building," he said, "is not an army. The breeding program, the pack consolidation, the development of specific bloodlines, none of it is about military power. Military power is temporary. It depends on the continued application of force and collapses when the force is removed." He paused. "What I've been building is a lineage. A specific magical inheritance that can sustain itself across generations without my direction." Marina said nothing.