Carnage Black White And Blood Novels & Stories

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 19 𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑎..... 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑖... Katherine

The drive back to the penthouse was a tense, silent autopsy of their situation. Dante’s fingers were a white-knuckled cage around the steering wheel. The black rose on his screen was a ghost in the van with them. Inside his fortress, the violation was evident. He went straight to the guest room, Elena trailing behind. The rose was exactly as pictured, a perfect, velvet-black bloom with thorns like needles, lying on the white linen like a drop of ink on snow. A small, ornate card was tucked beneath the stem.

Images flash behind my eyes. Three men. Cruel faces. Cruel hands. Cruel words. "Let's see what a war-wolf's pussy tastes like." I feel it again. The rage. The white-hot fury that consumed me. Pain in my head. A blinding light. And then—nothing. I see it now. I see the light fading. I see my hands—no, my paws—covered in blood. I see the men on the ground. Torn apart. Dead.

Everything went white. Then black.

My harsh breathing withers away, and I fall slack against meaty arms. No. No… I try to kick, but my limbs don’t move. Soon enough, darkness swallows me whole. ---- ETHAN's POV I barge out of the car before it fully stops moving. The scene before me is a battlefield. A few men lie on the ground, their blood forming pools on the filthy asphalt. Others are hiding from the gunfire behind cars. But there’s nothing to hide from. More accurately, we’re late. Fvck. Laye motions for his guards to check the perimeter, and they comply with sharp nods. I remain in place, feet planted solidly on the ground, as my gaze roams the cars and the people left behind, whether alive or with their heads down.

He placed his gun on her temple and forced her to walk out of the room along with him. Terror gripped her heart as she saw dozens of men lay on the white tiled floor in the pools of their blood. Her stomach churned in anxiety as the soul left her body for a second when her eyes met with the obsidian hues. "Hamza," His name left her lips in a whispering prayer. The man was bathed in blood. Red crimson was all over his white shirt and splattered blood rested on his face. He looked like death himself. Raw, chaotic madness.

“I know about the silver fangs dad. They’ve had it out for me since high school. After everything Aiden has told me, I have reason to believe that they were the ones who had shot me… Dad?” Cary’s eyes aren’t their normal color. They are a terrifying shade of red violet. The color of violence and death. “You know what this means don’t you?” He turns away from us, vibrating with the effort it takes not to lash out. “This means war, Willow.”

Weird. As far as Ash could remember, there were no shades of white on the night of their fight. Everything was covered with darkness, deep crimson coming from the large amount of blood that had been spilled on the ship, and the deep orange hue that symbolized the true terror of the Black Wolf plan. It was— Ash eyes widened as if the fog had been lifted and suddenly, all he could see was the scene that made his blood run cold, and the terror and fear shook him through his core.

Explode. The canyon echoed with the rhythmic, deafening destruction of the ancient vanguard obliterating the front ranks of the nightmare. The valley floor was quickly covered in a thick layer of crushed gray gravel, the remnants of a hundred feral entities erased from existence in a matter of minutes. A mile back, standing on a high, safe ledge overlooking the carnage, the leader of the blood-born watched the slaughter.

Tires screeched as they sped away, police lights appearing just as Marco began barking orders into his phone to delay the response. In the backseat, Elena stared at her hands, smeared with blood and soot, unable to shake the image of the man’s face before she pulled the trigger. It had been so easy. Two shots. A life ended. Damien reached for her hand without a word, and she clung to him until her fingers ached.