Novelas y relatos de Heir Of Blood And Moonlight

A mother’s voice rang out, sharp and trembling as she faced them. “I will never…I will never sacrifice her!” A cold and commanding voice of an old man, cut through the room. “For two hundred years, our family has fed on female blood. It is tradition. It is necessary.” The mother’s hands shook as she gripped the tiny figure of her daughter. “No… this is not her fate. she’s just a child! How can you all be so cruel?!”

Every face turned toward Liam. He quickly searched through one of his ancient books. His expression changed instantly. "Oh no..." "What is it?" Rowan asked. Liam looked directly at Chloe. "She isn't an ordinary werewolf." He swallowed hard. "She's descended from the Blood Moon Clan." Magnus frowned. "I thought that bloodline disappeared centuries ago." "So did everyone else," Liam replied. "But if Chloe carries that blood..." "She is the last living heir." Chloe suddenly screamed. The dark mist exploded from her body before retreating again.

My legs feel heavy, as if the black earth wants to claim them, pull me down into the same memory it holds of all the others. A wind comes up, shifting ash in slow, eddying spirals. I tighten my cloak around my shoulders and step forward, ignoring the rasp of armor at my joints. I’m not dressed for mourning, but for intimidation: a breastplate chased with gold, the sigil of my House stark on the tabard. Still, there is no one left here to fear me.

"I really don't. Up until this morning, I thought I was just a rogue trying to survive until graduation." "Okay, crash course in supernatural genetics." She pulled out their phone, scrolling through what looked like scanned pages of ancient texts. "Blood Heirs are born maybe once every few generations. They have the ability to absorb and temporarily wield other wolves' abilities, strength, speed, specific gifts like tracking or persuasion. In theory, a fully trained Blood Heir could take on the powers of multiple wolves at once." "That sounds..." I searched for the right word. "Terrifying."

He stands to leave. At the door, he pauses. "I will check on you later," he says over his shoulder. After he leaves, I move to the desk and pull the curtains open. A majestic view fills my sight. I see a massive ancient castle-like structure rising from the mountainside. It looks like a kingdom, or a prison. On the desk before me lies a document. Rules and Regulations for Maya Reynolds. I sigh. I open the first page. I have so many questions. And what the hell is a Bloodmoon Pack?

“Why do you need to protect me?” “Your uncle wants you dead. He later found out he took the wrong twin. You’re the rightful heir to the throne. You are the heir of the light “Heir of the what?” I started laughing so hard. I’m seriously buying into this? I just can’t believe everything she’s telling me. Like what? Like I’m a king or something.

We went through hell and back to be together but I believe that made us stronger. Nikki has truly been the love of my life, the perfect mother to our pups, and exactly the type of Luna I had hoped for. Tonight we are throwing one last blood moon ball and then tomorrow, I will be passing the torch to David as he has found his Luna. He met Sinead during the last blood moon when he was traveling abroad on business for Carolina Phoenix Corporation.

“I don’t tell them everything. There are secrets I’ve had to keep from them before. If this is truly something they don’t need to know, I won’t be the one to tell them.” I sighed deeply. Fuck. I was really about to divulge a secret that wasn’t mine to someone else. But I needed someone that could help, and I needed some direction. I wasn’t good at giving backstories and all that shit, plus if Alpha Adrian was serious about five minutes, we only had a few left.” “Onyx is a vampire and werewolf hybrid.” No sense in beating around the bush, I always say. “Wait. What? How? Oh! Her mother, Iliana. That sneaky bastard!”

The apartment lights were dim, save for the soft glow of a crystal lamp on his reading desk. He opened the leather box that had sat untouched on his shelf for weeks—the gift his mother gave him before he returned overseas. Inside were royal scrolls: records of noble bloodlines, sealed proposals, and a long, rolled parchment bearing names of eligible women from elite clans. He had promised his parents he would begin considering a bride. He was turning twenty-eight soon. The following year would mark the Bloodmoon, when the lycan blessing of bond would take hold for those ready to wed. Maika and Carl didn’t pressure him, but tradition—and now secrecy regarding Elira—made it necessary to act.