Castlevania Bloodlines Rom Novels & Stories

Feeling the presence of the vampires, Rufus glanced sideways and gave a slight nod to Lord Philopoemon, who returned the gesture. "They're coming," Rufus growled, his voice a low, rumbling sound that seemed to shake the ground beneath them. His claws dug into the earth, leaving deep marks in the soil. "Yes," Lillian said, raising her staff, the crystal on top glowing with a bright green light. "The forces of the Reds are big, but we are ready. Our spells are powerful, and our warriors are fierce." "And our fangs are sharp," Lord Philopoemon added with a chilling smile, his fangs shining in the moonlight.

“Your mother, Princess Anita, was the daughter of King Artemis—the true Lycan King.” A silence fell over us, heavy and full of unspoken truths. My fingers tightened around the pendant, my mind reeling. “Princess Anita… my mother?” “Yes,” Marcus said, his voice low, reverent. “She was a symbol of hope for all of us. The Red Lycan bloodline was something we believed would bring unity, peace. When she disappeared, we feared the worst. But then we heard of you, her daughter… and we knew that the bloodline still lived on.”

he said. I nodded slowly. “It’s the binding that locks away the Old Powers beneath the ley lines. It's what my bloodline was sworn to guard.” He shook his head. “That’s what we told you. It’s not the full truth.” I frowned. “Then what is?” My mother reached into her cloak and drew out a small, weathered book, bound in faded leather, etched with ancient runes so old they seemed to shift under my gaze. “This,” she said quietly, “is the true oath of the Weber line.”

Octavia murmured to herself but still loud enough for my ears. "What? What did you suspect?" I quickly demanded. I wanted to know what she was thinking. "Ordinary true-blood vampires are strong because they are born that way, but the royal ones are far beyond the estimated strength. Though, there are just a few of the royal families left in the ancient world. Their bloodlines are believed to be inherited from the original creator of the vampire race. That explains why you were awakened earlier, why you have characteristics of a real vampire even though you're just half-blood. Now everything falls into place."

Something in my chest that has been in one position for eleven days shifts. "Vienna reported in this morning." He crosses to my desk. Sets down a single printed page with the deliberate care of someone who has thought carefully about how to deliver something. "Prague went dark yesterday. Lisbon haven't responded to three separate messages." He pauses. His voice doesn't change — he's too good for that — but something behind his eyes does. "The degradation pattern is consistent across all five bloodlines. Starts eleven days ago. Simultaneously." Another pause. "To the hour."

Grenade. Baek nodded. He reached into his tactical vest and pulled out a flashbang. He pulled the pin and rolled it across the floor. BANG. A blinding white light seared the room, followed by a deafening concussive blast. Min swung out. Pop. Pop. Pop. Three headshots. The men behind the sofa crumpled. Min stepped over the bodies. His heart was a cold engine in his chest. He felt nothing. Not fear. Not remorse. Only the mission. Find the vault. Find his father.

Then, softer, almost unwillingly, “But history has been wrong before.” She paced once, restless. “There were whispers. Bloodlines thought extinguished. Children born outside the pack. Hidden in plain sight. Marked but unclaimed.” She stopped in front of me. “If this were a mistake,” she said, her voice darkening, “the power would have rejected you. It would have torn you apart.” My chest tightened. Fear crawled up my spine. “I’m scared.” Mira’s eyes locked onto mine. “The wolves you saw,” she said slowly, “silver, gold, red, black… those are not pack wolves. Those are ancient aspects. Guardians of bloodlines long buried.”

It was becoming a monument instead of a connection. The Salt Wolf stepped between us. The Ashford-recording was flickering, the violet light in its eyes fading into grey. "The list," the beast croaked. Ronan’s voice was barely a whisper now. "The seventeenth was not the end, Amara. Look at the ledger. Look at the last page." The leather-bound ledger from the Library of Bones suddenly appeared in my mind. The pages flipped, caught in the wind of the Ascension. I saw the seventeen names of the bloodlines. I saw my mother’s handwriting.

Damon’s voice cut in sharply. “He is an infant.” Cassian chuckled. “Not exactly.” A chill crawled along my spine. “What are you saying?” I asked quietly. Cassian paused. Then he spoke slowly. “This child carries two bloodlines that have been enemies for generations.” My mind froze. “What?” Lucian went completely still. Damon sounded furious. “You are lying.” Cassian ignored him. “The Vale bloodline,” he continued calmly, “and the Hale Alpha line.” My breathing hitched.

I clutch the pendant, whisper his name like a prayer into the dark. “Adrian.” The mate mark on my wrist burns cold and empty, like it’s mourning too. RAEL THORN –( FOREST, SAME NIGHT ) Rael slips through the trees like smoke, meets a hooded vampire at the border stones. “You’re late,” the vampire hisses . “Had to wait till the screaming stopped,” Rael answers, handing over a rolled parchment . “Full defense map. Every watch post, and every weak point.” The vampire unrolls it, red eyes gleaming. “The king will be pleased.”