Hitler Bloodline Novels & Stories

“The dust reacted to you because it recognizes your blood, not your loyalty, not your courage. Your lineage.” “My… lineage?” "Yes" “You are not what they named you, Ivy. Not a forgotten omega, not an accident of the pack.” His voice dropped. “You carry a highly royal blood — Moon-Weaver blood. The last living line.” The room seemed to tilt after all. “That’s impossible,” I whispered. “My mother was—” “Your mother was murdered,” he said, softer. “By a raid meant to erase her. To erase you and anything that has connection to your family's bloodline .”

The blood hit the table like a thunderclap. “Because I’m the last De Rossi who bleeds true.” Silence. Then one by one, they stood. Knives drawn. And placed over their hearts. A vow of old. “C’è guerra. Per il sangue. Per la stirpe. Per il fuoco.” (There is war. For the blood. For the line. For the fire.) The De Rossi old guard had returned. Giovanni had no idea what was coming. ~~~~~~~~~~ Giovanni watched from his marble tower as the lab prepped the serum. Every vial was laced with Aria’s bloodline. Every code broken by the descendants of Nazi doctors once hidden in Swiss caves.

He nodded before saying, “You are correct, but only to a certain extent. A violent and unpleasant childhood alone doesn’t account for all that happened, especially the enthusiasm of millions of Germans and the immense number of followers he could pull together, but we’ll come to that later. Along with his esoteric inclinations, there were a few other facts which he succeeded in concealing from the public. His father, Alois was an illegitimate child, and Klara, Hitler’s mother was the third wife of Alois. Klara was also Alois' second cousin, young enough to be his daughter. Before their marriage she used to call him ‘uncle.’ Klara joined Alois Hitler’s household as a maid but left after his s

"That child would be what." ‎Calla looked at me for a long moment before she answered. "Something I need to be very careful about naming without being certain, " she said. The oldest line has not produced a verified carrier in three centuries. I have spent forty years studying fragments of records, not living examples. What I am telling you is a theory built from ash, not confirmed fact." ‎ ‎"But," I said. ‎ ‎"But," she agreed, "What I can tell you without reservation is this. If the bloodline that preceded the hierarchy combined with an Oracle bloodline, the result would be something the old families believe they eliminated from the world permanently."

The man who drugged my coffee, who watched me grieve empty pregnancies, who harvested my body in the dark like a strip mine — he didn't even leave a genetic stain on the lives he stole. He bypassed the Geneva bank. He accessed my dead father's preserved biology to fertilize my stolen eggs. He knew a hybrid child would be useless to the Volkovs. He knew the Russians demanded a pure, concentrated succession plan. And he didn't even care enough about the biology to realize the profound weight of what he was actually doing. The babies sitting in cryogenic suspension at the estate carry my father's DNA. They're the direct continuation of the Romanov bloodline. "Excuse me," I say. My voice sounds

I showed him the displays of the Greek ships as they sailed on Troy, Alexander the Great in the battle of Persia, Mussolini minutes before he was executed. He stopped and stared at those for a long time, taking in the artwork with a curious eye. His arms crossed over his chest, and he stared at the image of Mussolini with the most interest. “He was my great-grandfather.” “Mussolini?” I asked in surprise. He nodded without taking his eyes off the painting. “His daughter Edda was my grandmother, although I don’t remember her. My family has a bloody history, and it only got worse as the line went on.”

Underground, scattered, renamed, the seventh founding bloodline had maintained its primary inheritance through an unbroken maternal line — each generation a single female child, the concentration intact, passed forward through direct descent from mother to daughter across seventeen documented generations. She was reading this passage for the third time when she heard the vault steps. She said, without looking up: "The seventh bloodline. The last intact carrier of the original concentration. That is what I am." Rafael appeared at the foot of the stairs with two cups of tea, which he set on the corner of the table with the quiet practicality of someone who has decided that significant conversa

“Your Majesty, we were negligent. But the Queen’s aura was very weak. We didn’t sense—” “You didn’t sense it?” Aurelius asked. His gaze became even sharper. “A captain appointed by the High Council claims he couldn’t sense the presence of a supreme bloodline?” “Or,” he added softly, “did you deliberately choose not to see—because you had already decided she was merely a mortal?” The captain’s face instantly turned pale. He had nothing to say, because that’s exactly what he had thought. My bloodline had been suppressed—intentionally, a long time ago.

They were testing the fences, looking for weakness in the new wolf. "Silence." The word cracked like a whip. It didn't come from Min. Elder Park, Underboss One, set his tea cup down. The sound was deafening. He looked around the room, his gaze heavy with decades of violence. "The bloodline is the law," Park rumbled. "The Chairman chose his heir. The Heir has cleaned the house. If anyone wishes to join Kang in his 'resignation,' speak now." The room went deadly still. Park’s endorsement was the seal of legitimacy.

I was beginning to hate questions like that. "What are you talking about?" Selena carefully placed the photograph back on the table. "Years ago there was a bloodline known as the Crown Bloodline. Most wolves believed it disappeared decades ago." Nina looked confused. "You're saying royalty?" "Something like that." Blaze folded his arms. "I thought those stories were nonsense." "So did most people." My stomach twisted. "And my mother was part of it?" Selena hesitated before nodding. "I think so."