Elizabeth Bloodflame Past Life Novels & Stories

"My dad told me a story about how my uncle got romantically involved with a witch who caused his death and then weeks after, she died trying to take revenge. Same thing happened to my brother and now it's you." Philip nodded his head thoughtfully, finding the sense in what Nicholas had just revealed. "So, theoretically, Elsa, in all her lifetime, gets involved in a romantic relationship with your bloodline, which will cause their death and soon after, hers." "Elsa had lived several lives before now?" Nicholas asked. "Yes," Philip nodded. "She gets reborn anytime she dies as far as I get a woman pregnant because of a certain ritual her true mother performed while she was pregnant with her."

I guess it got so used to me and now I just need to walk around till I feel dizzy. I stepped out of the room going to feel my eyes outside the living room. My jaw dropped, the environment looks so beautiful at night and I can not stop loving it all. The fireflies, I only saw them once when I was still a kid but now I got the opportunity to see them again. A hand gripped me suddenly from behind and I struggled with it and the eye I saw was like a rainbow, I have never seen such before in my life. "Who are you and why do you have the last bloodline royal birthmark on your back?"

"She has consistently reincarnated through a chosen werewolf, every other century. When they shift, they have the appearance and abilities of the Flaming Wolf. For two centuries now, she hasn't been reincarnated. But in the dream the king and I shared. She was present." "So that means....?" "That means the Flaming Wolf has been reincarnated in this century. We just don't know who it is." "How do we find her or him?" Liam asked, and Isobel shrugged. "I believe she would come to us." "What if she doesn't? Are there things we could use to identify her?"

Caleb jumped to his feet instantly, pulling Brianna into his arms, then used his free hand to grab me and shove me to the ground. "You actually hurt her right before me, Jeanette? Are you seriously that shameless? If you weren't pregnant, I'd have you thrown in jail right now to teach you a lesson!" he barked. I looked up at Caleb, who was seething. He still looked so familiar—the person who once promised me the world. But now, any hopes I had about us were long gone. In my past life, when Brianna took her own life, he thought I was the one who killed her. Now, with Brianna still alive, he still blamed me for starting that deadly fire.

It was a tender breeze that cradled the echoes of long-forgotten lives, each gust whispering secrets of those who once walked this hallowed ground. Her fingers lingered over a new sigil etched into her palm, its sharp lines and intricate curves stark against her skin. This mark had been born from the fierce blaze she had summoned weeks earlier—a unique flame that felt alive with potential. It wasn’t soul-fire, devoid of warmth or purpose, nor was it Hollow, a shadow of existence. No, this was something far rarer; she had chosen to call it the Silver Flame, though its true nature remained shrouded in mystery. Yet, as she took each step on this sacred soil, she felt the gentle hum resonating f

The scent that rose from it was faintly metallic, like rain on stone, like the inside of a church after the candles are snuffed. “Drink,” he said. Elizabeth stared, blinking slowly. “That’s not water,” she rasped. “No,” Malachor agreed. “It is life.” Her stomach turned, instinct recoiling. “From you?” “Yes.” Elizabeth shook her head weakly. “That’s blasphemy.” Malachor’s eyes sharpened. “You are already dying,” he said. “Blasphemy is a luxury for the healthy.” She tried to push his hand away. Her fingers barely lifted.

The Whispering Flame That night, Ava dreamed of flames that spoke. She stood in a circle of fire, barefoot and unburned. Voices whispered in her ears—not cruel, not kind. Just ancient. “She carries two bloodlines,” the flame said. “The Moon-Wolf. And the Witch of the Wild Ash.” “She carries the curse of the Sixth.” “And the power of choice.” “But she must still sacrifice.” She opened her mouth to ask what… But she awoke with blood on her palms.

“Help me take them down. Be my partner in this. Not my prisoner. My ally. And when it’s done… I swear to you, I will find a way to give you your life back. All of it. Not this struggling, scraping existence. A better one. I’ll get your body back to you, and I’ll set you up with enough money, enough stability, to never be afraid again.” The silence stretched. I could feel her turning it over, the desperation wrestling with a thin, fragile thread of hope. How? she finally asked, her mental voice wary. How can you promise that? You’re a ghost with a three-day lease. “Because I’m not just a ghost,” I said, and for the first time, I leaned into the arrogance of my old name. “I’m Elizabeth Wakefie

The flickering candlelight danced across her face, casting elongated shadows that seemed to mirror the thoughts swirling in her mind. Her thoughts drifted to Zoe, the young woman whose presence had ignited a spark of recognition within her. Esmaralda had sensed the powerful aura that emanated from Zoe the moment she had set foot in her presence. It was a familiar energy, one that resonated with her own ancient bloodline of vampires.

“But now… now he’s gone. Dead. The witches said his soul is trapped in a flame that can never be put out. A prison of his own making, fueled by his betrayal.” Theron looked visibly shaken, though he masked it well. His analytical mind seemed to be struggling to process the enormity of the information. “What else did they say, Elowen? What else did you learn?” His voice was tight, strained. I looked down at my palms, the violet-blue glow on my fingertips fading slowly, becoming an almost invisible hum. “They said that I’m the last of the witchblood. The one who bridges flame and moon. That what’s waking inside me… will destroy everything if I don’t master it. It’s power that hasn't been seen