Romans & histoires Dark Blue Veins Underneath Tongue

I swallowed a lump in my throat, the dread clouding my chest threatening to suffocate me. “Something bad’s going to happen, Dante,” I said moments later. “You need to go somewhere far away from here. Somewhere far from home. The mafia.” He stared at me for a few moments, his expression blank. “What about you?” “What do you mean?” I asked, my brows furrowed. “We’re both mafia blood, Seraph. If something bad’s really going to happen like you claim, then you wouldn’t be exempted. So,” he cocked a brow, “what about you?”

My breathing grows heavier as the images reappear. Aerin’s hands on her waist. His mouth near her ear. My vision flashes gold. A low growl tears from my throat before I can stop it. Then my back burns. “Ahh!” I staggered to my feet and ripped my shirt off turning to the large mirror. Black veins have spread from where the Hollowed Vale vine had pierced me when Elara was pulling me out. I touched it and it pulsed. The edges look darker and thicker now. “What is this?” I whispered as I looked at the thing beneath my skin pushing outward.

Panic flashed in his eyes, pure, unfiltered panic. “What the hell… are you okay?” I knelt beside him, reaching out to help, but the moment my fingers brushed his skin, he jerked violently and vomited more blood. I pulled back, but my eyes stayed locked on his. Something was wrong. I looked down at my hand, still resting on his arm, and noticed the skin beneath my fingers. His veins were turning black, dark lines spreading out like cracks in glass. They kept moving, snaking up through his chest, his neck, his face, until they reached his eyes.

“Drink.” I looked at the veins on his throat and I could see the blood pulsing under his pale skin. I could smell the luscious life-giving blood underneath, calling to me … I didn’t pause to wonder what was happening to me or what I was doing. Instead, I bared my teeth and sank them into the milky-white flesh of his neck.

There were dark lines crawling under his flesh, veins gone black like ink spilled through water. “Started this morning,” he said quietly. “I thought it was nothing. Stress. But…” He trailed off. His voice shook. Luca’s face drained of color. He pulled back his own cuff. Same thing. Black veins spiderwebbing beneath pale skin. The air left my lungs. “No,” I whispered. “That’s not possible.” But when I looked down at my own hands, at the faint shadows starting to bloom beneath the surface, I knew it was real. The silence that followed was deafening.

What is this? A purplish bruise is covering a part of her hand from her thumb to the mid of her palm. Blue veins visibly showed and bulged out. Why? Why was her right hand in this worrisome condition? Did she accidentally smack something during her sleep? Thalia touched the bruise, and more sharp stinging pain like being stabbed by hundred needles assaulted her nerve.

He acted as though he knew with absolute certainty that nothing in these woods would attack him. My eyes narrowed as I studied him closely. His torn uniform hung loosely off his broad shoulders, stained with dry mud and black blood. But as he leaned forward to adjust the fuel lever, his collar shifted slightly under the harsh fluorescent glare. My heart stopped beating. Beneath the frayed fabric of his shirt, resting right above his collarbones, were thick, raised lines carved into his flesh. They weren't scars. They were dark, pulsing, obsidian veins, split and oozing a faint, glistening black residue that crept upward toward his throat like a crawling spiderweb.

VIVIENNE pov I stared at the mirror like it owed me money. Naked. Full-frontal and no mercy. The black veins had retreated to thin, ugly spiderwebs under my skin, mostly arms, thighs, ribs, a nasty crown creeping up my throat like some gothic tattoo gone wrong.

"I don't know what to do." The anscientious cursed spirit tried to check on Verena. He slightly pulled her hands away from her neck and inspected what was going on. He was expecting to see a gush, perhaps a wound, but what he saw surprised him. "What is that?" Zoren yelled. "Why are her veins turning black? I've never seen something like this before!" "I have," Galen whispered. "If this is what I think it is, then I don't think we can do anything," he said. "Only Rena can help herself."

And when he ran it slowly around my nipple, I felt something that made me arch my back and grab his hair. Bumps. Small ones, along the entire length of his tongue. Like ridges. Like beads. Each one scraped against my skin in a different way, creating layers of sensation that my brain couldn’t process. “Mortyss…” I moaned, looking down. “Your tongue…” He raised his eyes to me without taking his mouth off my breast. His violet eyes were brighter than ever. And then, deliberately, he showed me his tongue. It was purple. Forked at the tip, like a snake’s. And along its entire length, rows of small bumps pulsed, each one the size of a tiny pea, glistening with a moisture that wasn’t human saliva.