In Cold Blood Novels & Stories

The Silver Claw (Viktor Age; 35) The trapper’s blood steamed in the cold, pooling around my boots like molten copper. I crouched over his corpse, fingers buried in his ribcage, prying loose the liver. The forest reeked of iron and pine sap. A twig snapped.

She ran straight into Ethan's arms, trembling like a fragile, helpless bird. "Impressive, Mr. West. Truly, you're a once-in-a-lifetime perfect husband," Amber mocked, her every word like a slap across Ethan's face. However, his body instinctively shielded the woman in his arms. I looked into his eyes, my body pressed against the railing. I calmly said, "Ethan West, you want me dead." His brows furrowed even deeper. He denied it, saying he did not want to play childish games with me anymore.

Drip drip drip....the stream of blood dripping from her wrist, she looked down at her wrist and frowned then looked up at her reflection. No pain, she didn't feel any kind of pain, the blood dripped and dripped and dripped but Lily didn't feel any kind of pain because if it ,how was this possible, she stood confused. Was it because of all the pain she was already in that cancelled this one ? Was it because she has been through worse ? Her vision blurred, her eyes lids felt heavy and everything went black the next moment.

Veronica! Rage consumed me as I turned towards Veronica. My eyes, still showing signs of bloodlust, grew brighter with my rage. I could feel a trail of blood dripping down from the corner of my mouth to my chin. Veronica's eyes grew frightened as my gaze locked onto hers. "Veronica, where did you get that needle from?" I asked in a deathly calm voice. She understood that the calm in my voice was used as a mask to hide my own rage. "The organization-"

His mood changes in an instant. He looks like Sunny just asked one of the most dangerous questions that she could ask. The sweetness of the candy is already gone and his stares send shivers down her spine. If glares can do something to a person then maybe she’s dead and cold meat already. That’s how dangerous he looks right now.

Devon POV The steering wheel felt cold beneath my palms, but it was the blood—Nadia’s dark, drying blood coating my forearm that felt like lead. Every time I shifted gears, the blood scent filled the cabin, a sickening reminder of the beast I had become to end the nightmare.

❝Deals made over wine always end in blood.❞—Sh. Rivera. The last thing I heard when Zayen stood, drawing his gun back into his pocket, was the sound of a body heating the ground and a sick, warm feeling of something cold against my hands—Blood. Zayen sat back down with eerie calm, adjusted his tie like he hadn’t just executed someone in cold blood, “Shall we continue now?” No one needed another warning. They all retracted their guns, slowly nodded, then took their seats.

Chloe's journey back to the Mill Creek house was a nightmare of pain and cold. She crawled through the snow, her body broken, her vision blurred. The wind howled around her, its icy fingers clawing at her exposed skin. She could feel the cold seeping into her wounds, could feel her blood freezing in her veins. She was dying, and she knew it. But she kept moving, her determination fueled by a primal will to survive. She had come too far to give up now. She had survived the apocalypse, survived the cold, survived the beatings. She would not let some stranger's rage be the end of her.

He glanced at his bleeding hand but strangely enough he felt no pain. The anger he felt had surpassed the pain. After calming himself, he turned on the ignition and drove steadily.. ISABELLE'S POV.. “ Cold…. So….Cold…” I mumbled as my entire body began trembling.. I tried to get the image of those dead guards outta my head but unfortunately I just couldn't. It was a gruesome thing for a human to do and unfortunately I'm married to that monster. Even though I acted tough earlier, my body wasn't immune to cold..

The Sentinel stood close to a small drop. He had a pale face. Shaken. Fearful. Mason insisted, "What is it?" The young wolf gestured. No one said anything. A man sat below the ledge. Mud-covered. Drenched in blood. Barely awake. Frank Cole Alive. No one moved for a single heartbeat. Not Mason. Not Harper. Not me. Not Grayson. Frank then raised his head, and grinned. My spine went cold at what I saw. Since relief wasn't what it was.