Kickstarter Blood Rage Novels & Stories

He felt like the courage he need, was the cigarette he just smokes, looks at his Gang, stares at the sky. “They started it and we will end it” he grunts, in his eyes express, fury and animosity “yes” A voice shout, as others nodded, “This is not a challenge fight, is an avenge for the death of my baby sister” his voice break, he presses his finger on his eye, wipe a drop of tears “They will pay dearly” a voice said “Blood will flow, when I mean blood will flow, I mean blood will flow” he whispered, lighten a stick of cigarette on his mouth, as he released the flame on air, it circulates

He’d been so gentle and loving towards me at the hospital, that I’d almost forgotten who he was. But he was Rain Blood! Rogue alpha of the most dangerous and notorious pack of rogues that had ever been – Gods of War! He didn’t show mercy. He didn’t even show emotions. He didn’t even have a heart… So if this was the punishment he saw fit for someone disobeying him, who were I to oppose him? Hell, some might call it karma. He did this because they’d hurt me first. Tortured me and humiliated me. Some might even say he did it for me and I should feel flattered…

“…Fuck.” The second I step onto the Blood Fang pack grounds, chaos slaps me in the face like a damn insult—loud, jarring, and completely out of control. It’s deafening. Voices scream and chant, fists raised in the air. The entire pack has turned upside down. There’s no order, no structure—just complete madness. And through the noise, one name keeps echoing, again and again, making my blood boil: Khoas. They’re actually protesting for that bastard. I can hardly believe it.

I tried convincing them, and thankfully they saw the situation the way I did. The witches scattered around the pack, trying to use our magic to stop this bloody fight. **** Killian's point of view Ryker and I felt the rage pumping within us. Our emotions were on overdrive. All I wanted was to get to Sheila and kill those bloody bastards for taking what was mine. I tried not to think about anything else. I couldn't bear the mere thought of something bad happening to my sweet mate. I growled in rage, as my army and I reached the Black Blood Pack.

She smiled, her teeth stained red. Barrikad yanked her head back until her neck arched in a brutal angle. "Do not mock me, little dove. You can be broken." My mouth dropped open as I watched her lift her head. Push her face into his as much as she could. "Try me, fucker. The only option you've got left is to kill me. And if you do that, you'll bring hell down. Not only on you, but on your boy band here. If you think to end a blood debt with me, you don't actually know what a blood debt is. My family will rip yours to shreds. We'll bury you so far and so deep that your ancestors will cringe from the decimation. You will be wiped from the mind of the locals for fear of retaliation. So come at

Rage's face lit up with a radiant smile as he took my hand in his, his eyes shining with tears of joy. "My Queen, I am immortal, my years are 900 in all," Rage said, his voice filled with emotion. "You are the first one to ever give me a child!" I kissed his lips, and he responded with fervor, devouring me with all the passion he possessed. His hands gently touched my belly, his eyes shining with pride. His older brother, Blaze, and younger brother, Rett, and the rest of his men, applauded loudly, their cheers and whistles filling the air. Niklaus joined us, hugging me tight and pulling Rage into the embrace, a rare display of affection from him.

How to kill something that looks like what you love. I charge. Steel arcs. And she screams. Not the ghost. Lira. The real one. She’s behind me, and I’ve already swung. Blood. Hot and real sprays across the fog. I stop moving, and my grip slackens. The blade drops. Lira staggers backward, one arm raised, her hand bleeding, her palm split from blocking the blow. But it’s her face that kills me. Rage. Not pain. Not fear. Wrath so pure it burns brighter than the fog.

I can spot a liar from far, because I am one. “Do I look like I’m playing games?” Rage asked, reaching for three arrows. He shot one and nearly missed his head, another nearly missing his shaft, another missed his hands. “You're a psychopath,” the man screamed, his saliva drenching out. “Where's your brother?” he asked again. “Home,” the man replied. Rage quickly rushed outside and I followed him. His men at the door immediately entered in. Only screams could be heard. We walked outside.

Anger and fear flooded my veins in equal measures. Pixel. Well, that's what everyone called him anyway. I'm sure that's not his real name, but my mother had sworn to me she wasn't mixed up with him anymore. Not after she ended up owing him a lot of money, which I had to help her pay back. He has a violent reputation. It didn't matter if you owed him ten dollars or thousands. Money was money to him, and you had better pay. Rumors on the street say he has killed...more than once, and beatings were a common thing with him.

"Not you. Not Kael. Not the Pack." I move. Not away, but toward him—ducking under his outstretched hand, bringing the kitchen knife up in a sweeping arc that catches his forearm. The blade is dull, but the force of my rage is sharp enough to make him stumble back, hissing, the sickle clattering to the floor. "You stupid girl," he snarls, clutching his arm. "You have no idea what you’re rejecting. The power—the safety—" "I don’t want your safety," I say, backing toward the window. "I want my own."