Romans & histoires How To Get Bloodstone Calamity

“Yes, love, everything is fine, ‘’ I added, entering Rebecca’s game. “As I probably know, you recognized me. We need the most sparkling dress for...my lady over here. For the Treasure Awards Gala.” “Of course... Mr. Stone...” And as soon as she said that, she was out of sight. I then turned to Rebecca, who seemed to be already amused by the situation. “Darling?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, though I didn’t dislike it at all. “Looked like you needed some help there” she was even more amused, widening her smile.

"The one that came to you last night, the one I found. And now the blood stone is completed. But it needed the dagger it was set on, and then it would be full.” "What the hell is that thing? It is-" I blurted out and then stopped myself. Why the hell did I just tell him that? He looked at me, his eyes darkening... I could see and feel the anger inside him. The dark red swirl. The power of his hatred almost knocked my breath out. "The blood stone is the source of my power. And I had to find another missing part of the stone, and then my power will be back. Yours, too.”

"It isn't. I don't have any affection for you. I just really need it." I punched him. "What do you think of me clothesline ?!" he just laughed. "He's here. You should shut up." I stared at him before I faced him. Damn, we're away. I saw the headmaster walking towards the podium. He sneezed first before speaking. "News has broken. The stone from district one has been stolen." We all sighed at what the headmaster said. "Stone as in the Trait Stone?" I asked the one next to me. "Yes." I turned to him. "You knew?" he nodded.

A stone fireplace warmed the room to an almost stifling temperature, the fire crackling as he pulled her towards an armchair. "Sit." He positioned her in front of the chair and slid his calloused hand down her arm as she sunk into the navy and gold embroidered cushions. His eyes shone yellow in the reflection of the flames, the only source of light in the room cast deep shadows across the panelled walls. The gloom swallowed him, and a soft click of a door opening sounded from the other side of the room. He reappeared by her side with a small first aid kit. "You're going to treat my wounds?"

But the way she said his name… the contempt in her voice… I had to know. My hand slipped into the inner pocket of my coat, fingers curling around the small, smooth weight of the bloodstone. The crystal was no larger than a plum, its deep crimson heart swirling faintly under my touch. As the pack strategist I had the right to possess a bloodstone. It wasn’t a tool I used lightly. Bloodstones are sacred. They held the imprint of magic cast nearby — the voices, the images, the truth that lingered in the threads of the world long after mortals had forgotten. But drawing those memories out came at a cost.