Dio Brando Phantom Blood Novels & Stories

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the whisper of the night wind through shattered glass. And in the quiet, I admitted the truth I hadn’t dared speak aloud. The prophecy wasn’t just about her power. It was about my fate too.(Ivy’s POV) Felix was a fool. I watched him brood in the cathedral shadows, his crimson eyes burning brighter each time Maya’s name crossed his lips. He thought he was hiding it, but the bond had already snared him. Tribrid blood—wolf, siren, vampire—it called

Sir Darius stands at the edge of the ruin, careful not to step closer without my leave. "Your Highness," he says, bowing his head. His hair, once blond, has turned the color of old straw, and his face wears a day's growth of beard as if he has simply forgotten to shave. "We should not linger. The sun is nearly down." "We will linger as long as I say," I reply. My tone comes out sharper than I intend, but I make no apology. "If the night has claim here, it can wait its turn." He inclines his head, but his eyes linger on the blackened threshold, where bone gleams under the ruined doorway. He does not need to tell me he thinks it an ill omen. I have made peace with omens; they are rarely more d

Her father’s blood ran hot now within her even she was not entirely convinced that she was really the same blood as Antonio De Luca. Her grip was unshakable. The hunted girl was gone.

The academy gates loomed ahead, massive black iron twisted into the shape of thorned vines. It glowed faintly along the metal, humming with magic that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. Two guards stood at the entrance, both armed with blades that looked older than the city itself. One was a vampire, pale as moonlight with eyes like melted gold. The other… I didn’t even know. His skin shimmered faintly, like his shape was never fully fixed in one form. They scanned us, eyes lingering on me, but Davorin murmured something under his breath and they stepped aside.

“I want them to feel fear too.” Inside, the shadows moved unnaturally. Every step echoed, every creak of the floorboards a potential trap. Damian’s eyes flicked across the space, noting each detail: dangling chains, crates stacked haphazardly, a flickering fluorescent light casting the Phantom’s movements in strobe-like bursts. And then, for the first time, they saw the face. “Alessandro?” Adriana gasped, voice barely audible. The Phantom had removed the mask, revealing a familiar jawline, sharp cheekbones, and eyes that should have been gone with Alessandro’s supposed death. His lips curved into a cold, unreadable smile.

Brandon titters, as he tilts his head moving it from Cameron to Adrian. "Let me borrow your words, wrong move, the alpha should have known that you are no match for me, within a blink, I will strangle you and feed you to the bird of the sky, an alpha battling with beta and Gamma, what a shame? You know I have alpha blood running in my veins." Brandon's voice was filled with mockery, being the proud ruthless Alpha that he is, he would never bow to anyone.

-Look closely-he pulled back his sweatshirt revealing more parts of his body burned and with bones exposed and with parts of his dress stuck to the pieces of skin hanging there as well-this is what holy water does to an unprotected vampire-and threw the bag with the gold on the floor. Monster would define Brenda's face well, and also the act of Julio Cesar yelling at her to ask her if she had brought what she had sent for, without even asking how her face, which he knew gold didn't work very well for certain things concerning Brenda, had looked after facing the waters of the waterfall.

I say. "For what she expended." Maret chooses her words carefully. Sets them down like objects she is placing on a surface she isn't sure will hold them. "What she carries, what was revealed tonight, it isn't something we have a reference for. Not in living memory. The Moonblood hasn't manifested fully in generations." She pauses. "She used a significant portion of it in a very short time. The shift. The fight. And then what she did for you." She says that last part without inflection.

Even on the broad street, she managed to lose herself in the heavy traffic. I was about to sniff her out when an SUV screeched across the road, cutting me off. A suited werewolf stepped out of the vehicle. Judging by his grizzled hair, he was advanced in years. For some reason, the bloodlust stirring within me settled down when I looked into his eyes. I gradually shifted back to human form. Laurent Ford, the werewolf, stared at my face, tears streaming down his cheeks. “You look so much like your mother. She, too, has eyes as blue as the ocean…”

Clifton says with a disgusted look on his face. “Did you happen to get a blood sample of his, as well?” I ask Brody. Brody nods. “First thing I did when we got him strapped down.” “Oh, so you’ve joined your Alpha in his blood drinking quest?” Clifton jokingly says to Brody. “You could try using your fang. I'm certain you'll get used to it with practice.” “Asshole,” Brody retorts and finishes drawing blood from my arm. “Back to the topic of the hunter,” I grunt.