Indigo Blood Homestuck Novels & Stories

He bows, “I'll be outside, My Queen.” “Can I get you anything?” Fiona asks just as I make myself comfortable on her couch. I shake my head and gesture with a hand towards the chair opposite of me. She sits. “How did you know I'm a blueblood?” She doesn't seem perturbed by the question, rather intrigued. “When I collected a blood sample the last time you went under heat. I ran a few tests, checked the archive, and a few weeks later..it's only a mixed werewolf that can be a blueblood. It happens once in the last fifty years.”

But she was also somewhere else. The "peeling" had stripped away the walls of her mind, leaving her consciousness to drift through a kaleidoscopic storm of possible futures. She saw herself in a sun drenched cottage, a simple human woman who had never met a King or a Hunter, her hands stained with flour instead of blood. Then, the vision shifted violently: she was standing on the ramparts of Blackwood, her skin covered in silver white fur, cradling an infant whose eyes held the weight of a thousand years. She saw herself as a phantom warrior, a sister in arms to Anna, their blades reaping a path of vengeance across the South.

"You anchored me, Nomo! Now I’m anchoring you! Breathe, damn you! Breathe!" She pushed her power into him, not as a Sovereign, but as a partner. She didn't try to rule him; she tried to find the spark she had left in him. She searched the darkness of his mind, calling out his name, until she felt a faint, distant throb. Nomo’s chest gave a sudden, sharp hitch. He coughed, a spray of dark blood hitting the snow, and his eyes snapped open. They were still amber, but deep in the center of his pupils, a tiny violet spark remained—a permanent mark of the hybrid pulse.

Sadira was steps away from merging with the tainted Core. And through it all, I felt the Bond with Nathan—thin, fraying, suffocating. Then I felt something else. My blood. It began to burn. Rodriguez’s words echoed in my mind: You are the bridge. I knew what I had to do. I didn’t raise the dagger toward Vako. I pressed it to my own palm. “Abigail, no!” I heard Nathan cry, distant and desperate. I cut myself. My blood—darker and thicker than any human’s—splashed onto the floor, spilling directly over the Sanctum’s ancient runes. My hybrid blood, carrying Nathan’s essence and my own human will, met the Core’s corrupted darkness head-on.

“Fucking bastard.” Dominic turned to look at Hudson, and grinned through his pain. “Gage said you have a girly voice.” “The fuck I do!” Chuckles erupted as Hudson walked closer to Dominic, and wiped the blood from his eyebrow with a handkerchief. “That’s going to leave a mark.” “He always marks me somehow. Let’s get the fuck out of here. I need a drink,” Dominic said.

The sorcerer’s voice is raspy, hollow, as if spoken from a grave. Marco nods without hesitation. He gently raises the infant, holding him as though presenting him to the gods. “The blood of a Lycan prince. As pure as it gets.” The sorcerer extends his hand. Long, skeletal fingers brush against the child’s forehead. The little boy sobs louder now, his tiny body wriggling in distress. Stephen feels bile rise in his throat. “Perfect,” the sorcerer whispers, almost reverent. “The blood that will rewrite destiny.”

“Lena, please. There’s another way. There has to be.” Tears blurred my vision. I wish there was another way. I wanted to believe it. But deep down, I knew. The truth had always been written in the bloodline. In the First Door. In the Vault. One way in. One way out. “I need you to trust me,” I whispered, brushing my fingertips against his cheek. “I always have,” he said hoarsely. I turned toward the creature, ignoring the screaming in my blood, the way the air itself seemed to recoil from it. I lifted my hands, summoning the last of the sanctuary’s magic into me.

And I had walked willingly into it. I stumbled toward the basin, splashing cold water on my face, trying to wash her out of me. But the harder I scrubbed, the more her presence clung. The way she trembled yet refused to break, the way she looked at me, not as master, not as husband by contract, but as a man. A man stripped bare. I cursed under my breath and forced myself to breathe, to rebuild my mask. By dawn I was dressed in my armor again black suit, tie knotted too tight, my reflection giving nothing away but sharp lines and discipline. A man in control.

Even so, right that moment, I was so sure that the person walking towards me was him. His hair was red and ponytailed. He has three piercings in the right ear and has a tattooed symbol at his left temple down to his cheek. He was wearing a black cloak tainted with a lot if red stains, which I'm sure is blood. The thought of whose blood is it terrifies me. By the way he looks, he obviously just came from a war. But why did he make it here? Does that mean... No. It can't be. Red smoke went out from my necklace. The next second, Raja's growl echoed in the whole palace. His tail surrounded me in a protective stance.

Kaelen had heard that story before; it was taught in royal history, and it happened in the forest they visited that night. “They cursed our bloodline with their dying magic,” Darius continued. “A curse designed to destroy the Alpha line.” Kaelen shook his head. “That’s just a legend." “I believed the same thing,” Darius said quietly. “Until tonight.” He lifted his hand weakly. Dark veins pulsed beneath his skin. “The moment you left for the hunt… the sickness began.” Kaelen felt Ravok shift uneasily inside him. The forest, the wolf murmured.