Curse Of The Bloodthirsty นิยาย & เรื่องราว

My nails start elongating and I fear anytime from now I will lose control. Goddess knows what will happen if I do. I don't want to hurt anyone. "Shit" Mira cusses gaping at me in realisation. "What is it?" Lance asks and instantly picks me up and places me on the sofa I was sitting on earlier. "She's bloodthirsty" Mira mumbles and I feel enormous fear take over my senses. Bloodthirsty is when you can't have enough of blood no matter how much you drink, and it only happens when a witch casts that spell on you.

The man tells the doctor while turning around with his evil smile slowly turning into a smirk. ***************************************************** ‘Maybe I can save him.’ thought the boy. After a few short breaths to steady himself, he got back up to his feet and walked over to where he had laid the wolf then sat down next to it. The boy put his hand in the wolf’s mouth and cut it slightly on the wolf’s fang. He flinched for a second at the same time as he cut his hand. He let his blood drip into the wolf’s mouth for a while. The wolf, sensing his inhuman presence seemed to know that in its current state, it could do nothing to defend itself. So, it just sat and waited for the boy to

“Do not fear, Laura. All great struggle demands sacrifice.” “What sacrifice?!” I tried to ask. But Miguma launched herself into the air, kicking Melody so hard her face snapped sideways. Miguma screamed a spell that made the entire desert tremble. “ICKPE DESTRUYUM LEOTAR EUTHANASIÁ!” A curse of gods. A killing spell. Melody’s eyes widened. “No—dedi—“ Her counter spell never finished. Lightening fell like the wrath of the heavens. “KRRRZZAATTT—!!”

Chapter 18. A WOMAN'S FACE ON MINE. MIRA'S POV. The night sky turned red, lanterns hung above the courtyard with the stars matching up its strength. The drummers beat their drums in rhythm with the singers, the flute played accompanying the melody of the beats. The scent of roasted meat and wine filled my nostrils. It was the night of the blood moon, the most sacred of festivals, when the pack celebrated renewal, unity and the goddess who blessed them with their first bond.

“It’s not just some ancient evil we’re dealing with. It’s a curse—one that’s been tied to my bloodline for centuries.” A stunned silence followed his revelation. Aria’s eyes widened in disbelief, and even Eldrin seemed taken aback by the gravity of Lucian’s words. “Your bloodline?” Dorian echoed, his voice incredulous. “What curse?” Lucian’s expression darkened, his gaze falling to the ground as if unwilling to meet their eyes. “The curse of the Vampires of Vayne,” he said quietly. “My family was once part of an ancient order of warriors who protected the world from supernatural forces. But that protection came at a price.”

I was a threat to them because I fed on their blood instead of human blood; I had trained myself to live with animal blood, though it didn't give me the satisfaction that human blood would. For several generations, my body has come to terms with animal blood, and the reality, I didn't intend to change. ” We have to get it under control.” Theo suggested. “ Alpha, the chains are loosing up!” one of the warriors complained and I stared up at the wild animal that was looking at me with bloodshed eyes.“ What do you suggest?” Theo asked, stepping forward, but I didn't have the chance to answer as one of the chain's thorns, the beast started shoving the warriors one after the other rendering the ch

Because of the curse the witches cast on me—as punishment for trying to balance the powers between all creatures and defy their claim to supremacy—immortality clung to me like a second skin, both gift and burden entwined. I buried my parents. My friends. My pack. Century after century, I watched them fall away, one by one. And I know, with a certainty that still steals my breath, that one day I will watch Rowan die too. Naturally, or not. Even my fated mate, if he ever truly existed, would slip beyond my reach, the curse shadowing every instinct, clouding every bond before it could fully form.

“Because, little moon, the curse runs through you. Through your blood. And it’s tied to mine. You belong to it… and through it, to me.” Her pulse raced. The thread of the curse burned hotter, and she realized—terrifying and undeniable—that she couldn’t pull away even if she wanted to. It pulsed with a life of its own, and in that moment, she understood why her mother had feared it, why the soldier had hesitated at her birth.

“It’s not Mooncrest. Not Nightveil.” “Bloodthorn?” Jax snapped. The seer shook her head. “Worse,” she said. “Older. The curse they woke when they burned their contracts and called it honor.” The air darkened. Literally. Shadows lengthened, stretching unnaturally toward the center of the hall. The pendant at my throat heated painfully. My mark flared—first in fear, then in defiance. Damon staggered. His hand flew to his chest, where his own suppression mark lay.

But not her. Irritation flickered in my chest. I didn’t have time for this. For a woman with a snappy tongue and an ill-mannered attitude. If I had my way to pick any she-wolf of my liking, I would have beheaded her the instant she spoke so freely to me, before all my subjects. Then replaced her without blinking an eye. My jaw tightened, the goblet nearly snapping in my grip. For years, the curse has been gnawing at me. An unrelenting thirst and hunger for blood that no kill could satisfy.