House Of Blades Novels & Stories

I could see our father standing next to Ava. The drums played, signifying the start of our match, and before I could do anything, a portal opened up behind me as Atlas appeared, attempting to stab me with the king's sword, but luckily, I was fast enough to dodge it. I could hear the crowd gasping. I drew my double blades I had gotten from the armory. Blades were forbidden in the arena, but a dragon never plays fair on the battlefield, and I knew he would use every advantage he could get. That's why the blades I used were dipped in neon liquid at the tip of the blade. One cut into a vein, and he would be weak. One through his heart, and he is dead. He charged at me with the king's sword, with

The Hollow Blade waited for her there. It was no weapon forged by men, nor a simple vision birthed from fear. It was something etched into the marrow of her existence. A spectral blade with jagged, shifting edges, its body wreathed in whispers that cut deeper than steel. The voice it carried wasn’t one voice, it was many, layered, distorted, yet unified in cruelty. "You think you can wear the crown of Luna? You think your blood is strength, hybrid?" the Blade hissed, circling her in the void-space.

We stayed silent for a while as we wound down the streets of Moon City, the night life shown in the bar lights streaming through the skies. "What is the blade that he was talking about?", I asked after a while of silence. "The blade is an ancient weapon that can be used to kill young vampires", Jacob responded, his eyes focused on the road, his hands relaxed on the steering wheel. "Young vampires?", I pondered. Did he mean people like Kane? "Do you mean newly turned?", I asked. "The ones that just underwent the change?"

The golden blade cracked again. Rhydian clenched his teeth. "It's inside our heads." Kael closed his eyes. The voices were becoming unbearable. "You are alone. You always were. No one stays. Not even him." Kael's breathing became uneven. The memories of House Virel. The years of isolation. The belief that he was only a weapon. Everything came rushing back. The silver blade flickered. The creature smiled. "Yes... Doubt each other. Fear each other. The Twin Blades will become nothing."

BLADE 2. He forced his tongue into my mouth and pinned my two hands roughly on the bed. He doesn't allow me move. I wiggled my body but he ended up hitting my boobs with his palm. The pain sent the wrong sensation down my pussy. It throbbed shamelessly. He stopped kissing me and before I knew it, I landed a slap on his cheek which I regret doing. His demeanor changed instantly. I presume it didn't sit well with him.

The sword known as the treasure of Blade's Reach was destroyed by Adrian. Hansen looked at the shattered Lunar Edge, completely stunned. The next moment, Adrian struck again with the Hellblade, which carried a killing intent that surpassed everything. The attack was about to fall on Hansen's neck.

They had told me to go to bed, but how could I close my eyes after what had happened? The phone calls never stopped all night. Different numbers, different voices, different updates. The Blade men were already hunting a name—Rocco Valeri. The bastard who killed Andrew. I sometimes forgot how ruthless and skilled the Blades were—especially with their own enemies. I prayed they found him. But I also knew something. When the Blade family hunts a foe, they don't seek revenge, they seek annihilation. I hadn't even realized I had dozed off until the sound of heavy boots storming into the living room jolted me awake. I sat up sharply, my heart pounding.

"It seems that I'll have to use all I have this time." The sword light flashed, and besides holding onto the Dual Blades of Fire and Ice, Omar was biting onto his third sword, the Blade of Wind. As soon as the Blade of Wind appeared, Omar's entire momentum also changed. The air in their surroundings sounded as if sharp blades had slashed it, and it was frightening.

A glint of metal caught the light as Spencer produced a sharp blade. “You’re going to regret ever crossing my family,” Spencer vowed, his voice devoid of emotion. With a swift motion, Spencer’s men pinned Chase’s legs to the floor. Chase screamed as Spencer raised the blade, his eyes fixed on the gleaming metal. The blade descended, slicing through fabric and flesh with ease. Chase’s screams turned to agonized wails as his legs were cut off from the knees, blood gushing from the wounds. Spencer stood back, his eyes never leaving Chase’s contorted face.

I shouted. I stepped out from behind Rowan. The obsidian blade in my hand felt different now. It wasn't just a heavy piece of stone. It was light, almost weightless, and it thrummed with the soft, white light of the girl I had seen in the warehouse. It was the **Blade of the Unsaid**. Every word I had swallowed, every dream I had put aside for the sake of survival, every "I love you" that had been lost in the roar of battle—it was all there, feeding the light. Vane pivoted, his liquid form spinning like a drill. He ignored Rowan and came for me. He was fast—too fast for a human to track. He was a blur of silver and shadow.