Novel & Cerita Crimson Breath Of Resentment

shaking her as his heart is bursting with pain, hate, and anger where he could not explain and even take for too long. His mana overflows as the mark of the holder of the third book of Aries show unto his neck. To the pain and anger he felt, he screams creating a shock wave and bursting with a white light that engulf everything. To the state and the clouded heart, he is drowning with, a voice whispers as ‘he’ came. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Already, the acrid taint of distilled terror and festering resentment hung like a miasma in the stale air. Inside the furthest enclosure, three Blackmoon elders – their once-regal bearings twisted into rictus snarls – straightened as I approached. Through the crackling barrier's haze, I fixed them with the full, unblinking weight of my emerald alpha-stare. "Well?" The single guttural syllable fell in challenge. "What foulness clings to you still?" Only their defiant growls answered at first. Then, one leaned forward with gnashed fangs bared in mocking defiance.

The crimson spiraled in the basin, swirling like an offering to some unseen, unholy god. His breathing was shallow. Controlled. But his fingers trembled. It wasn’t fear. It was rage. Rage that simmered beneath the surface like molten lava waiting to erupt. Rage that had been caged for too long, denied its vengeance. The scent of iron clung to him, not just to his skin, but to his very soul. It was in the air he breathed, in the fabric of his clothes, in the crackling silence that filled the space around him.

The golden irises of his wolf were bleeding into a toxic, bloodshot amber, his nostrils flaring as the wind carried the rich, vanilla-and-ash scent of my receptivity directly to his face. His jaw was clenched so tight I could see the muscles straining to the breaking point, his fists shaking at his sides as he stared at the midnight-blue sapphire glittering on my finger, and then, with a raw, sickening intensity, at the raw, swollen punctures on my neck. He didn't bow. He didn't move. He just stood there, bleeding a sour, desperate hatred into the air that promised a civil war before the week was out.

Death draws me towards it like we have been attached with an unbreakable string. Maybe it's just a superpower in which I get the last chance to save the person in front of me or maybe it’s a curse. Particularly a Crimson curse, as I like to call it. Through the years the number of deaths I have seen is greater than my age. You would think that death doesn't affect me anymore. You are right to think that because that is what I had thought until 5 days ago.

If he gives them his blood, it might kill him or backfire in any other number of ways. I turn back towards the crystal and the few spirits that linger and demand they ask for some other payment. However, they merely ask for the same thing again and again. Letting me know they will not change their mind. “Damn it!” I yell furiously. “Damn it all to Annwn!” The group behind me jumped at my sudden outrage. Only Max stays near me, as though unafraid of my anger. I don’t need to look at him to sense his worry for me as I feel his hand gently touch my back in comfort.

“Shit!” Chiri croaked, her throat hoarse after having awoken to find herself amongst the familiar oppressive darkness that was the Abyss. The atmosphere thick with the malice of the shadows that had been cast there for eternity, she coughed from the extreme discomfort of breathing it in. Grasping her chest as she gradually adjusting her breathing to accommodate the thick soup that was considered air, Chiri fought hard to choke back a wrenching sensation in her throat.

he paused and pointed the gun at Cynthia. "You were so good in bed, I foolishly let you into my bed without knowing that you are Delilah. Thank God I am not Sampson who was blinded by sweet pûssy. I am smarter than you" he shrugged. "How much did that guy pay you? Oh, maybe he fûcked you better than I did!" He laughed. "It feels good to waste the blood of those who betrayed you. It will be more fun sucking the blood of your enemies!"

I gasped, unable to breathe. Madraya was the one to answer with a calm tone. “It only means one thing. Your mate has revived the power of the Crimson, and he’s using it as we speak.”

As for King Stefan, it seemed that he was shocked to see that there was a warrior who had a very intimidating aura even to him. "You'd better let her go, King Stefan," the Crimson Warrior spoke to King Stefan. King Stefan bared his fangs as he readied himself to attack. To everyone's shock, the Crimson Warrior then howled loudly. That howl even managed to make me kneel because of how intimidating that was. As an Alpha wolf, this howl was very strong. Was it because I was still a new Alpha that his howl intimidated me? 'Who is actually the Crimson Warrior? Why does he have such a threatening aura?' I thought to myself.