Golden Blood Ep 9 Eng Sub Novels & Stories

I pulled my scratchy blanket a little closer and whispered to myself, "One day, I’ll make sure Mama will never lift another pan again. One day, Nick will no longer say I'm serious when he thinks about me. One day, all of this hard time will be worthwhile, worth gold!" Until then, I fight for my silver shoe. I will keep working hard for my own success. Because that is what Brooklyn girls do!

The scream cuts off in a burst of brilliance that blinds me for a breathless second. When my vision clears— The thing is gone. And Kael— Kael is on his knees, one hand clawing at the ground, the other pressed against his chest like he’s trying to hold something in. “Kael—” “Stay back.” His voice is raw, guttural. “Kael, you’re—” “I said stay back!” The gold veins crawl higher, threading into his jaw, burning against the hollow of his throat. His eyes blaze—not silver, not shadow—pure gold, so bright they hurt to look at.

However, none of them were brave enough to step forward and speak up for me, even though they now knew the truth. It was ridiculous and ironic. Once I had calmed down, I asked impassively, "Ms. Seinfeld, have you figured it out? How much of your money have I even used?" While I was calm, Tessa was clearly flustered. She could not remember spending money on me at all, not even on a single grain of salt or even a drop of water. Tessa gripped my superior's hand tightly, asking tensely, "Has Ethan's mother… really passed away?"

She deliberately touched the necklace lovingly with her fingers, showing it off clearly right directly in front of my face. "Do you like my necklace, Alessandra?" Chloe asked mockingly and sweetly, tilting her head sideways arrogantly, enjoying every single second of what she believed was my pain and defeat. "Lucas gave it to me yesterday… he told me he bought it years ago, but he never really liked seeing it on someone else. He said it looks perfect, much better, and much more beautiful on me than it ever looked on anyone else… don't you agree?"

Marcus grabs my waist and pushes me behind him, “Your highness.” He did a bow-like gesture. “What are you doing?” Marcus opens his mouth to say something but doesn’t. “ And do not even think about lying. Your job was to stay hidden and to keep your eyes on her.” The purple eyes slowly faded to gold and Marcus sighed.

Right as college acceptance letters went out, my golden boy of a brother, Bill Cyrus, spread a rumor that I stole his spot at Braxton University. His only proof was a single paparazzi shot of me standing outside the university gates. Of course, my parents believed him. To protect Bill's precious reputation, they forced me to take the fall. They even threatened to lock me away in an internet-addiction center for good to erase their embarrassment of their younger son—the one who dropped out and ran wild for a year. Watching my own family line up to tear me apart over one massive lie, the last scrap of hope I had for them shattered completely. I stopped holding back. I watched, ice-cold, a

Asher holds my hand tighter and Erik waves us over through the room, sitting on the couch with a woman on either side of him. Their breasts are practically out and pushed up in clothes better suited for the hookers that Jack Ward would prefer to take home. I look away, the music pounding a headache deep in my brain while Asher holds my hand tighter. "Come on, son," Erik hums. "Have a drink. We are celebrating, after all. The fall of the Golden family will be final when they try to come for their favorite whore." I grimace but still bury myself into Asher's side, gripping his hand as a comfort now. "Just let me take her back to bed, father. She doesn't have to be up here and participating in

But the way people moved aside for him, the way even the other alphas stepped back, told me everything I needed to know. This was someone powerful. "Ten gold from the hooded bidder," the trader said, his voice suddenly nervous. Garrett's scarred face went dark. "Twelve." "Twenty." The hooded man didn't hesitate. Gasps ran through the crowd. Twenty gold pieces could buy a house. A farm. A whole herd of cattle. Garrett looked like he wanted to rip someone's throat out. His hand went to the knife at his belt. "Twenty-five." "Fifty."

It was a resonance that shook the obsidian floor. I stepped toward the podium. The Judges moved to intercept me, their silver hands reaching for my throat, but they couldn't touch me. A barrier of liquid gold-mercury erupted from my skin, a frequency so high it shattered the silver masks of the Judges as they neared. They recoiled, their "Order" screaming in feedback as they dissolved back into puddles of useless liquid. "The Gold-Void..." Elena’s synthesized voice cracked. "It’s impossible. The 002 cannot generate its own source!"

“Green stops it. Red goes. But gold—” “—means come back to me,” he finished, voice cracking for the first time. Six months later, my phone buzzed mid-shift. Unknown: “Gold. Basement door’s unlocked. –Sir”