Final Destination Bloodlines Novels & Stories

It was becoming a monument instead of a connection. The Salt Wolf stepped between us. The Ashford-recording was flickering, the violet light in its eyes fading into grey. "The list," the beast croaked. Ronan’s voice was barely a whisper now. "The seventeenth was not the end, Amara. Look at the ledger. Look at the last page." The leather-bound ledger from the Library of Bones suddenly appeared in my mind. The pages flipped, caught in the wind of the Ascension. I saw the seventeen names of the bloodlines. I saw my mother’s handwriting.

She wondered as she stayed hidden, straining to hear what they were discussing in the dead of the night and in a place like this. "She’s not ready," Velvet said. "She doesn’t even know what she is." "She doesn’t need to know," the woman replied, her voice smooth but cold. "Not yet. She’ll find out soon enough." "But Mrs. Eldryn, are you sure she is the one? I mean, we've waited for so long and now it turned out to be someone who isn't even aware about the kind of blood she carries. Remember what happened with the last one we thought was the one."

In the middle of the room, there was a stone palette with twin figures carved in it. One was the old Silver Veil symbol. The other was a name. CRESSIDA. A third row flashed dimly beneath it: Phase IV Procedure: Bloodline Echo Remand into play. I felt Damien, standing behind me, go stiff. Bloodline echo. It wasn’t only about rousing her. This was about connecting her to someone whose blood she shared. Her half-brother. Damien. Cressida perched delicately on the lip of the stone slab, fingertips hovering over the ancient markings.

"So from now on, you'd better get rid of all your filthy thoughts about her. Don't even have a single crooked idea." "You know I'm the sole heir to the Blackstone Pack, and I'll gradually take full control. I really don't want to have to take my former 'potential ally,' your Silver-pine Pack…" He paused, a chillingly murderous glint in his eyes. "And wipe you out completely." Five years later. The celebration for my and Lucas's daughter, Little Moonbeam's, second birthday. The party was held in the most sacred Moonlit Terrace, the heart of the Blackstone Pack's ancestral cave complex. Before the feast began, her grandmother – Lucas's mother, now one of the most powerful elders in the Blackst

That bloodline. Alice? She was a threat to that. She left him, but not quietly. She fled to Dominic Grey. A name whispered like a death sentence. No one challenged Dominic. Not even Christopher. Not when he had the black market, and the loyalty of entire cartels. A notorious scavenging felon willing to gut someone alive who accidentally stares at him. Alice gave birth to a girl, Jewel Grey. It was Dominic’s. But Christopher insanely wanted Alice. So instead of fighting to win her back, Christopher settled for what was left.

His smile just made everyone smile. “Guess what I found out from Cade?” He rubbed his hands together. “Not something bad I hope.” I squished my brows together. “Was it about my mom?” His smile dimmed just a little. “No, but I did learn some interesting things about hunters. More specifically, the fact that there were only three bloodlines.” My eyes widened in surprise. “Three? That’s not a very large number.” I started to feel some hope rise in my chest. “Yeah, three packs carry the bloodline, they were the Midnight Pack, the Trinity Pack, and the Daemon Pack.”

Maliyla asked, drawing everyone's attention and transforming the mood. As Evangeline stared silently at Maliyla, she took a deep breath, nodded slowly, and said, "They are ancient; not many know about them, but those who do understand the power associated with them. These bloodlines are derived from Selene's daughters," Evangeline said, sipping her water. "When Persis had her children, the bloodline evolved and changed and passed on from generation to generation until it reached you in its dormant form. As a result, you received Persis's wolf." "Okay, wait," Maliyla said. "Even though Katia and I are sisters because of my dad, how can we share the same bloodline when she doesn't have the sam

Something in my chest that has been in one position for eleven days shifts. "Vienna reported in this morning." He crosses to my desk. Sets down a single printed page with the deliberate care of someone who has thought carefully about how to deliver something. "Prague went dark yesterday. Lisbon haven't responded to three separate messages." He pauses. His voice doesn't change — he's too good for that — but something behind his eyes does. "The degradation pattern is consistent across all five bloodlines. Starts eleven days ago. Simultaneously." Another pause. "To the hour."

“Now.” In the living room Damian had pulled out a whiteboard. Like this was some kind of war room. “Obasi wants the company,” Damian said. “He swapped babies twenty-eight years ago. Me and… someone else.” Marcus went completely still. “DNA test tomorrow,” Damian continued. “All of us. And the baby when it’s born.” Zara’s stomach flipped. “You think—” “I think Obasi wouldn’t be this desperate unless the bloodline was wrong,” Damian said.

Bloodline power was the only vessel that could contain ancestral skills and divine techniques of major families that had ascended to the higher realm. It was unmatched by sacred lands in Southsky, Midland and other regions. Though some founders of sacred land sects succeeded in becoming a celestial, it was essentially not possible to pass down their bloodline's power.