Dracula Blade Novels & Stories

The breeze from outside grew colder, brushing across my skin. "He-Help!" He extended his arm toward me, his fingers trembling as blood continued to spill between them. Instead of answering, I grabbed the water bottle I kept on the floor and drank from it slowly. While my eyes remained on him. Sharp and cold. This was Ross Drake, the notorious Alpha who bought Omegas and poor she-wolves from different packs' black markets and made them his muse for his paintings. After painting them nude, he assaulted them before slitting their throats mercilessly.

Glacier pressed the attack mercilessly, aiming for the other eye. Roosevelt frowned. From thin air, the first Dark Blade—the original weapon he had ever forged—materialized in his hand. He hurled it with deadly precision. The blade tore through the air and sank deep into Glacier’s right wing. Blood sprayed in a wide arc. Raphael lost balance, cursing violently. “If that’s how you want it,” Raphael growled. He swung Frostbite wildly at Roosevelt. “Shadow Scale,” Roosevelt whispered. Raphael’s sword burst into flames and crumbled to ash in an instant. Shock flashed across his face.

Just the storm outside and the low growl of a blacked-out SUV idling at the emergency entrance. Rain lashed the windows as we climbed the coast road. The university gates appeared through the downpour—wrought iron twisted into roses and bats, glowing faintly crimson against the black cliffs. Beyond them, BludHeaven rose like a cathedral someone had carved out of midnight: spires, arched windows, stone walls that looked old enough to remember when vampires still ruled the night unchallenged. The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Welcome to BludHeaven, Nico Black. Try not to die on the first night. The queens hate when their new toys break too soon.”

Snot and blood sprayed from his nose. Lucian pulled. The Lunar Dagger slid out of the sheath. The weirwood hummed. A low, mourning sound that vibrated through the floorboards. Lucian held the blade up to the torchlight. The translucent steel reflected the purple glow of his scars. "This belonged to Kings," Lucian said. He turned the blade, admiring the edge. "And now it belongs to a bastard. Poetic, don't you think?" Kaelor’s vision was blurring at the edges. The toxin was climbing his neck. He could only watch as Lucian stepped toward Aradaa.

Dax was to his left covering the approach from the eastern corridor, holding two more vampires at the edge of their reach. I moved toward him. I was ten feet away when the third vampire appeared from the right. Not toward Lucian. Toward me. Moving fast and low with a blade that caught the lobby light in a way that made every instinct I had fire simultaneously before my eyes had even fully registered what they were seeing. The edge was wrong. Too dark. Too deliberate. Cursed blade. I raised my hand to redirect him with the power and he was faster than I anticipated, faster than his size suggested, closing the distance between us before the power had fully oriented toward him.

The strange ancient language came to life. "The blade of light has a long double-edged blade forged from silver. The blade is fixed on a rich hilt of shinning gold metal with a smooth grip made of bluish crystal. A set of protection runes is carved into the blade near the spine. It was crafted by mage Calwivu, in the Aengmor Forest. It was crafted to kill the immortals. After the battle of Valmir, only two blades have been known in existence. One was kept in a secret location by the were council and the other one belonged to the Vampire elders...." "Vampires!" Harry stopped reading and rushed to inform his Alpha.

"Did you see-" "Enough to make me know what's going on between you too," he replied. "Princess Evanora, do you know what you're doing right now? Do you know what you're getting yourself into?" I nodded sheepishly. "Yes." "And do you have even the slightest idea how risky it is?" He continued. "Just how did you get involved with Blade in the first place?" "What?" I looked up at him. "How do you- Do you know Blade?" He sighed then massaged his temples for a while before replying. "You seem to have no idea what you're getting yourself into. Blade isn't a human or even better a vampire. He is a werewolf! Do you even have any idea what that means?"

happy as he bit into her, then ripped her throat out. The vampire looked to me with blood spilled over his mouth. His face was of defined bones and taut muscles. A true fucking beast! "Watch out, Sasha!" Draconian yelled as his blade decapatated a blur heading right for me. A headless woman appeared next to me and fell limp to the ground. This shit is too weird for me. "I'm going to die!" I cried to Draconian. "No you're not. Take this." He handed me a small metal stick.

With a serious face, Frey started talking about herself. There are two types of vampires.Pureblood and mixed-blood vampires.Pure-blooded vampires are the original descendants of ancestral vampires.While mixed vampires are obtained in various ways such as marriage between humans and vampires, or other ways.Frey is a pure-blooded vampire who has a body that looks the same as a human.Even so, she also has strength that exceeds ordinary humans.