It Hungers For Blood Mga Nobela at Kwento

He trailed off. "Why?" "I couldn't live off on feeding on animals. It just didn't seem to be enough. The hunger only grew from there and it kept on growing until this one day, during a fight, someone was terribly injured and his blood was all over the place. I tried to stop myself but I couldn't-I tasted him, his blood and it strengthened me." The gloom disappeared from his eyes and I took a step back when I found hunger replacing the sadness within them. "So...you feed on blood...of people?" I mumbled.

"You need to fight this, please." I nodded, my throat constricted with the weight of my inner turmoil. I could feel my control slipping, my thoughts consumed by the consuming thirst for blood. My eyes, once a piercing shade of gray, transformed into a deep, unsettling black. The hunger within me grew stronger with each passing second, my primal instincts threatening to overpower my every rational thought.

Lucian: Blood calls louder than the control tonight. The moon hangs low and swollen, a lantern of bone behind black clouds. Its light spills silver across the forest floor, sharpening every root and stone until the world looks carved from knives. I slip between the trees like smoke, boots soundless on damp earth, hunger curling hot and angry through my veins. It’s been too long since I’ve fed. Not in the casual way the others indulge, a polite sip from willing veins, from chalices filled from the reserve in the cellar. No—my hunger is older, uglier. It whispers in a voice that belongs to grave soil and forgotten gods. It tells me to take.

Chapter 1 Thirst clawed at her throat while her stilettos clicked a steady thrum against the pavement. The hunger for blood had been building within her core for days, and Cybill needed to feed on flesh more than she needed air to breathe. Her warm hazel eyes were rimmed with crimson…it was time.

"You feel it, don’t you? The unquenchable thirst, the insatiable hunger… It’s consuming you. Just one bite, man. That’s all it takes to satisfy it." "Nay," he declares, his voice strained as he trembles with the effort to fight his overwhelming desire. “Henceforth, I shall abstain from mortal blood and sustain myself solely on the blood of beasts.” I saunter over to him, getting close enough to see the beads of sweat forming on his brow. "Just give in," I croon seductively. "You can’t hide from me. The lure of blood is too powerful, and you know it. Think of the sweet taste of it. The way it dances on your tongue, sending shivers of delight down your spine. It’s irresistible!"

Ikaris asked. Despite not having a specific craving for food, my hunger was undeniable. However, there was a distinct and unusual aspect to my hunger. It was not a typical hunger for sustenance but rather an insatiable longing for Ikaris and blood. The presence of Ikaris in close proximity only served to intensify my hunger. The desire to make contact with him and absorb the energy he emitted became increasingly urgent. Waiting any longer was simply not an option.

I was hungry! I sat properly and removed my hands from my pockets as I tried to fight the demonic but pleasant hunger that burnt in my throat. I bit my lower lip and clenched my hands on the table into fists. I tasted the blood on my lip and realized I had wounded myself. The cut quickly healed, but the hunger still raged.

He grew quiet for a minute before shaking his head, “You know what you sound like?” “What?” “A fucking hypocritical bloodhound.” If not that he was driving, I would have punched him hard enough for his hand to swerve off the steering wheel and careen the car over the bridge into the black, icy depths of the canal. He knew how much I hated being referred to as a bloodhound. How much I hate being reminded that I was a fucking abomination. Soon we arrived at the Feeders Corp building. The house was solely for vampires of all breeds and was where auctions would be held regularly.

Everyone backed away in shock and pure rage, and I was hearing the faint scream of my mother calling out my name. But then, I was lost in a haze of hunger and confusion. I could feel the darkness swirling inside me, urging me to seek out the one thing that could satisfy my craving: blood. Instinctively and like a mad dog, I lashed out at one of my friends, who was also the daughter of a pack hunter like my parent. I was driven by an uncontrollable thirst as I tackled her to the ground, pinning her beneath me. Her screams echoed through the hall and into my ears, yet I couldn't stop as I sank my fangs into her neck, drawing out her lifeblood.

I was loving this new me, and I was high on power, the power I had gotten from blood and magic. "Let me go, Son of Haimon, and I will never return here again," Maria pleaded, but I was too hungry to listen. I craved her blood and her magic. There was nothing she could say to me that would make me let her go. She was my prey, and I was her predator.