Every Cloak Rolled In Blood Novels & Stories

However, most clans are too traditional to marry off their daughters to strangers. Raven, thankfully, would never do that. Bloodlust is coursing through my veins as I aim my weapon towards three guards standing at the back of the building. My body stiffens, yet my muscles remain relaxed and still, almost like I'm asleep but with my eyes open. My sole boundary is the hazy sky. There is no breeze, no outside noise. Chaos is all that is necessary. I fire, striking the first guard square in the forehead. It's too late when the other two turns to face him while their weapons. I knocked one in the hollow of his neck and the other in the heart.

Before Father could answer, the silver threads in my gown suddenly flared with violent crimson light. The silk snapped against my skin, pulling me toward the open balcony as though an invisible rope were tied around my waist. A deep pulse vibrated through the floor. It wasn’t a warning. It was a call. Beyond the balcony, a single crimson thread burned through the black fog, stretching from the courtyard to the silk around my waist. And at the other end of that glowing blood-red line, a shadow was scaling the northern wall.

The first light of dawn was swallowed by smoke. From the ramparts, Lucy could see the valley alive with movement, a sea of enemy banners rising like storm waves under a bruised sky. The steady beat of drums shook the ground, each thrum echoing inside her ribs until she could barely breathe. At the head of it all rode Joana, gleaming like a figure carved from ice and fire, her crimson cloak whipping in the wind, her pale hair glinting with malice.

Inside, the tower was empty. Or so it appeared. Broken furniture lay scattered across the floor, and part of the roof had collapsed years ago. Rainwater dripped steadily through the opening above, creating small pools on the cracked stone floor. Scarlett released a slow breath. Then something caught her eye. Near the far wall. A familiar cloak. Torn. Covered in blood. The Black Fang Alpha crossed the room in three hurried strides. He dropped to one knee beside it. Scarlett watched his face as he examined the cloak.

Finally, with trembling hands, he threw that cloak—into the fire. Flames roared up. They illuminated his wolf face covered with tears. The image froze. But Damien below the platform seemed nailed in place. His face was pale as snow. His lips trembled. He stepped back step by step. "This is impossible... absolutely impossible..." he murmured. His voice shook. "That cloak... how could it be the same as the one worn by that bastard who defiled purebloods? It's not... it can't be the same one..." The soul mage gritted his teeth and called up comparison images.

It was certainly a lie and he seemed to have noticed it. I sigh and quickly rushed forward and strapped his legs in between mine and wore the cloak and let go immediately. I stayed back, waiting for the impact of the cloak on his body. After some minutes, he began to shout and I smiled, knowing that my babies were beginning to perform their miracle. Apparently, the cloak was made with scorpions and certainly for each sting, he would slowly fade into oblivion. "You are an abomination unto the world, a cursed being released by the devil!" He kept shouting as he tried to pull off the cloak. I actually liked the compliment and wanted to take the torture to a whole new level.

The folds of his dark cloak ad leather straps are rendered in detailed texture. The distant looters continue walking down the street, carrying sacks of their own, reinforcing the idea that groups of scavengers are moving through the city. The sight of common thugs looting abandoned buildings and stalls brough a sharp, frustrated curse from Luz’s lips. His amber eyes narrowed at the pathetic spectacle. “Darm,” he commanded without slowing his pace. “A quick demonstration. Show these fools what happens when they get in our way.” Darm did not hesitate. A single bold of purple lighting shot from his fingertips, striking the lead thug’s shoulder and sending him sprawling into a pile of broken pot

I stared at the cloak on the floor, crimson pooling like spilled blood, and whispered to the empty chamber: “He will choke on what he stole from me. And the boy will be the dagger.”

"He is an opportunist." ​"And he won't be a problem much longer," a voice hissed from the dark shadows of the intersecting archway. ​The three of them froze. ​From behind a towering pillar of basalt, stepping out into the dim ambient light with slow, deliberate arrogance, came Vlad. His midnight-black cloak was slightly tattered at the hem, and his scarred face twisted into an ugly, venomous sneer. He kept his hands hidden beneath his cloak, his dark eyes locked entirely onto Laura with a desperate, pathetic malice.

Our manager is one tough cookie to crack,a minute late he will lecture you to for being tardy wishing you'd crawl back and never be seen. I sigh as I take out my contacts for my disguise looks.After all have been through and deciding to cloak myself as Marie,I also had to change my looks choosing a blonde wig and blue eye contacts hiding my grey eyes.I also had to tan myself a bit to hide my pale skin.I closed my eyes letting myself fall into slumber with only one thought in mind,time to reign.