Carnage Black White And Blood Novels & Stories

The silence after battle was worse than the fight itself. The courtyard was unrecognizable. Blood streaked the stone in thick black rivers, bodies littering the ground like broken dolls. The stink of iron and smoke clogged my throat, making me gag. Wolves limped through the wreckage, their fur torn, their eyes dull with exhaustion. Some shifted back into human form, clutching wounds that bled freely under the torchlight. Others lay still, never to rise again. I pressed a hand over my mouth, choking down bile. Hours ago, Blackwood had been walls and firelight, growls and whispered threats. Now it was carnage. A graveyard.

“Breathe, Alice. I’ve got you.” Her heart pounded, trapped in Kane’s crimson gaze, his warmth so close she felt his heartbeat. Her senses flared, catching the wild musk of wolf under his skin, and her nails ached, retracting slowly as she focused on his touch. “I’m not… me,” she whispered, voice trembling, wrist scar pulsing. “I saw it, Kane—a lab, Samuel, my scar. I’m not a hybrid. I’m… a weapon.”

Blood is everywhere., mine. Clara’s. enemies. allies. I can’t tell anymore and I stop trying to separate it because the battlefield doesn’t care about identity, only impact. Everything is red in my vision, not because of fear but because there is too much of it, too much movement, too much death happening too fast for the mind to categorize. This is war, not training, not preparation., not theory. Actual killing, actual dying, actual collapse of everything we thought we could control.

It had been years of being the strong and young budding alpha female, and in one night, it seemed all of that had been taken away. The wolves of the Craw pack were black and strong, their eyes a variety of colors that changed based on their mood. The wolves of other packs had similar characteristics and sometimes you could only tell the difference based on scent and markings. “Other packs” however, did not include the Decent pack, the pack of the white wolves. They were the outcasts and had gone into hiding for many years now because as Isha had always been told, they were a mistake to the werewolf lineage.

The medicine had stilled the shaking, replacing the agonizing itch with a cold numbness that made me feel like I was made of iron. The sound of engines vibrated through the soles of my boots as three black armored SUVs tore through the mist of the estate gates, skidding to a halt in a perfect, intimidating line. There was no pack crest on the doors, only a faint, embossed sigil on the lead hood of the weeping eye of the Fallen Empire. This was a mark of the True Bloods.

[Elian’s POV] The arrival of the Silver Fang army sounded like the end of the world. I stood in the shadows of the scullery, listening to the deafening, rhythmic boom of war drums echoing through the valley. Through the narrow, iron-barred window near the ceiling of the kitchens, I watched five thousand pureblood Alpha soldiers march into the Blackwood courtyard. Their armor was polished silver, catching the pale winter sunlight, and their banners—a white wolf on a blood-red field—snapped violently in the freezing wind.

“However, the Fangs didn't manage to become stealth like the Reds had. In just one night, the spirits had appeared in the form of black angels. They were angry and refused to help the Fangs and, instead, allowed the essence of the realm of death to enter the souls of the Fangs people. “That essence darkened the poor men's blood, eroded their fangs and snatched away their speed on par with the Bats. They wake up in a state like ordinary people; black blood and does not have the privileges of the Red groups. Feeling ashamed and guilty, the Fang declared to the Order of Security that they could not help. The Reds comfort and mourn for them.

Chapter 1 It was late at night at around 10:30 pm in San Francisco a woman walked passed a street it was dark that she had to make use of a touch light in order to get a clear view of where she was heading to, just when she was about taking a step she felt something around her when she was about to look around she heard some strange voice which she found kind of weird, at first it was frighten, she asked herself "what could that be." while she stood there wondering what on Earth could have made such a weird sound, she was lost in her thoughts, then she heard a foot steps as if she was been followed by an unknown person, now she was scared because she knew it wasn't natural for all this thin

Even his feet seemed like someone cut them apart. Her eyes were no longer asking to see anything. The scenes horrified her soul. Anna started panicking when she heard a noise coming from behind the door. A black cat came out from there, and under the soles of those fellows, he made a cross sign using their own blood. She couldn't even utter a word, as if someone stole her voice away. Tears were flowing from her eyes like heavy rainfall. She silently watched everything, how the cat used his sharp claws to peel their skin off, and they had no power to scream.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐨 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐥 The hydraulic whine of the gunship’s rear ramp closing shut cut off the damp, salt-heavy air of the Calabrian coast sealing the cabin into a pressurized chamber of low-frequency vibrations. Inside the dimly lit cargo bay, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense. Lucian Blackwood sat on the cold steel floor, shoved into a corner between two heavy equipment crates. The tailored charcoal suit that had once commanded respect in Manhattan boardrooms was torn at the knees, caked in coastal mud and gravel.