Hitler Bloodline Novels & Stories

“What do you mean, more?” He tilted his head slightly, as if considering her question. "You think you're just a regular girl, don't you?" He chuckled darkly. "That your life ended when your parents disappeared, that you were just some orphan scraping by. But you're wrong, Karina. You're more than that. You're part of a bloodline—a very important one." Her heart stuttered in her chest. *Bloodline?* What was he talking about? "Your parents," he continued, as if reading her thoughts, "they weren’t just some random casualties of debt collectors. They were part of something much larger. And now, you’re tied to it too. Whether you like it or not."

Not guilt about anything he had done personally, but the particular guilt of someone who has uncovered a crime committed by their bloodline and has been carrying the knowledge of it alone, trying to find a way to say it that doesn't destroy something important. I looked at him for a long moment and didn't say anything, because I didn't have anything to say yet that I was confident was fair. Hector, beside me, had gone very still in a different way... it was the stillness of someone working through a problem. "If Archibald is your grandfather," he said to me slowly, "then what does that make your connection to Lincoln?" "Lincoln is Archibald's direct blood descendant," I said, following the l

"You are not just any vampire, Hera. You are descended from the bloodline of the first vampire queen, a ruler known for her compassion and a deep connection with the natural order. The Elders feared her influence, so they conspired to strip her descendants of their innate power." Hera's brows furrowed in confusion. "But why curse me? Why not just eliminate the bloodline altogether?" Lilith's eyes bore into Hera's, a mixture of regret and determination in her gaze. "The Elders couldn't destroy the bloodline outright. The first vampire queen's legacy was too deeply intertwined with the fabric of our existence. So, instead, they decided to twist it, to corrupt it. They cursed the bloodline with

I motioned for him to continue, leaning toward him with interest. "It was assumed all of us were killed off by vampire hunters," Alexander muttered. "They did not want to deal with a powerful bloodline that could wipe them out, you see, so targeted them one by one in an assassination project. It's said they succeeded, but that obviously is incorrect. Aside from me, though. I'm not sure if there are other instances of the bloodline surviving." Then, he gave Nicholas a sideways glance, wearing a deep frown. "Something to note, by the way, Nick. In case you have forgotten, given you can be a little thick. And I don't mean just down there."

"It appears so." I frowned. "But how? I don't recall doing something extraordinary before the attack." "Maybe that vampire tracked your bloodline," he replied calmly. A sound of frustration left my throat. "Then why did he kill my parents? One of them must have been special somehow, right?" Ash put away the towel and stroked my damp hair with his hand. "Some treats manifest themselves every second or even third generation. The vampire could have observed your family for decades just to find you."

In front of him at the table was a wine bottle 1863 written in bold letters. I moved to the next photo. Same bluish eyes. Nose similar to the man I had seen in the previous photo. Sharp jawline. This one had lines on his forehead. I skipped to the next ones. Colors disappeared from the photos as I walked down the hallway. History and the family’s predecessors. A cold frown etched onto their faces. Noble Lineage. Wealthy personae. Powerful demeanor. That was the entire leadership of the Decardo family I was seeing here and I flinched back as the realization slammed itself into my brain that this the forefathers of a man who killed my father, my family.

He was the product of a dark experiment, the centerpiece of a throne built from someone else’s bones. And my family… my father… he knew it. He had discovered the cracks beneath the polished empire. He documented the failed heirs, the hidden adoptions, the genetic tampering. He tracked names, dates, subjects, and finally me. He knew that my blood, the Pierres line, could be the match to the gasoline they’d spilled across the mafia world. His final notes weren’t about vengeance. They were about legacy. If I survived, I would become the retribution they didn’t see coming.

Lucian finally spoke from across the room. “But this one does.” His voice was calm. Too calm. I turned to him sharply. “You seem very certain about that.” Lucian walked closer, his expression thoughtful. “I studied ancient bloodlines for decades,” he said. “Children like this were written about long before any of us were born.” Aria looked at him. “You said earlier that he carries three bloodlines.” “Yes.” “Then explain it again,” she demanded. Lucian nodded slowly. “The first bloodline is yours,” he said. “The line of the moon seers.”

"It means there are things your mother has kept from you, Serena. Things about who your father really was. Where he came from. What blood runs through your veins?" I shake my head. The room feels like it's spinning. "No. My dad was just, he was normal. He was kind. He taught me to ride a bike. He burned pancakes every Sunday morning. He wasn't." "He was the last living heir of the Silverborne bloodline." The name hits me like a physical blow. Silverborne. Even I know that name. Every wolf does. The original founding family of the Silver Crest Pack. The bloodline that built everything before it supposedly died out generations ago.

I sit with that for a long moment. "Why are you telling me this now?" I ask. He looks at his hands again. "Because there is one more thing," he says. "Something I found in the oldest documentation. Something that predates my research by two centuries." He looks up. "The Nyther bloodline was not a natural evolution." I go completely still. "What?" "It was engineered," he says. "Two hundred years ago. By the first Bloodryn king." The world tilts slightly. "Say that again," I demand.