La Mujer Del Flujo De Sangre Novels & Stories

But she couldn't wake up, so she couldn't convey her thoughts to these people. She felt that something was slowly flowing between her legs. As his body became colder and colder, Monique felt that the child was leaving her. "Oh no, the pregnant woman has suffered massive hemorrhage... We are in urgent need of blood infusion now!" The doctor, who had been monitoring the state of Monique, suddenly shouted loudly. "Get the blood bag ready to be injected with blood immediately." The doctor who was performing the operation for Monique said decisively. "But... but the pregnant woman has negative RH blood. Our hospital has no reserve now."

I say. "For what she expended." Maret chooses her words carefully. Sets them down like objects she is placing on a surface she isn't sure will hold them. "What she carries, what was revealed tonight, it isn't something we have a reference for. Not in living memory. The Moonblood hasn't manifested fully in generations." She pauses. "She used a significant portion of it in a very short time. The shift. The fight. And then what she did for you." She says that last part without inflection.

The woman lifted her hand and slapped Flow in her face viciously, Flow was stunned she held her chin in shock and looked at the woman. "You dare slap me?" Flow asked. "I will slap you again," the woman said. "Do you know who I am?! I am Flow Cunningham! Do you know the Cunningham! We are very powerful, I can order for you to be killed and no one can do anything about it!" Flow said in anger. The woman slapped her right chin, "You are Flow Cunningham? And you are in such a place?" The woman chuckled viciously. Flow looked stunned. Yes she is Flow Cunningham but she is in such a place.

It’s the same woman from before, the one who haunts my nights, who leaves me shaken every time I wake. “Who are you?” My voice trembles in the dream, swallowed by the roar of the fire. The woman lifts her hand, and the flames bend toward her like servants. Her voice cuts through the inferno, low and commanding, yet strangely tender. “I am your blood. Your bond. Your mother.” The word punches the air from my lungs. I shake my head violently. “That’s not possible. My mother is...” I choke. “She’s gone.” The woman's expression remains unchanged. "Gone from this world, yes. But not gone from you. My blood flows in your veins, and it will not be denied."

Saratan’s P.O.V "I own you, little vessel." His breath was icy against my neck as he leaned in, “Every drop of the blood thrumming through your veins belongs to me… and when you bore me, I’ll drain and stuff you." My pulse thudded erratically and I couldn't help the helpless tears that slid from my eyes, "P-please, don't kill me, I don’t want to be a blood vessel…" I whimpered, feeling my bladder give up on me and wetness flooded my thighs.

Too dark. Blood. It streams down her pale cheeks, bright red against the whiteness of her skin. Broken capillaries. A physical manifestation of a psychic break. But it’s more than that. The blood isn’t just dripping. For a second, it seems to… shimmer. A faint, impossible light glints within it before it drips onto her bare chest. I stare, frozen in shock. My medical mind races—cerebral hemorrhage? seizure? But my gut, my wolf, knows. This isn’t a human illness. This is power. Dormant, trapped, tearing its way out of her.

Slowly, slowly, she lifted her gaze to just a few feet away from her and saw a woman lying several feet away on the sand. She was... Motionless. Her body twisted unnaturally, one arm bent at an angle that made Elara’s stomach drop further. The tide crept closer inch by inch, staining pink as it touched the spreading blood. The woman was bleeding and coughing profusely. Too much blood. Far too much. Elara’s hands began shaking harder. “I didn’t…” she whispered in the dream. “I didn’t…” But the evidence was undeniable. The blood was on her hands...

The priestess was visibly anxious, as she watched the wood destroy itself under the embrace of every flame, whose reflections spread on the clear surface of the water. Suddenly one of the two elderly women spasmed and began to fumble in search of air. The priestess turned suddenly to look at her as before their eyes the woman's throat opened into a large cut, like that of the girl, and blood began to flow from her throat. The woman fell to her knees while holding her neck with her hands, only strangled sounds came out of her throat. Slowly the woman collapsed to the ground, a pool of blood began to build up around her, as she exhaled her last breaths. The priestess looked at her with wide ey

All the while cursing Flora in a shrill voice, she made desperate attempts to free herself from her bindings. At that moment, a stabbing pain shot through her lower abdomen. A warm fluid trickled down from between her legs, sliding down her thigh to pool on the ground. With wide eyes, Selena looked down, horrified as the pool of fresh blood on the ground grew larger. The pain in her lower abdomen worsened. Damn, she had used too much force, completely forgetting the formed fetus she carried. "Miss, are you alright?" Little Emma blinked, a look of concern as she watched the pale and fatigued woman sprawled on the sofa: "Do you need me to help you to your room?"

Whatever it was, I'd guessed that Mason was going through it too. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, he was frozen solid just like me, but his face was contorted as if he was in agony. I could tell that he was having the same fight inside his head that I was. Still frozen in place and not being able to look away, tears began to well up in my eyes as I watched the woman that I loved kicking her feet against the concrete, and grabbing at this things arms trying to fight it off. Slowly but surely she calmed in her frantic attempts to free herself. Eventually, her body went limp as the beautiful monster ripped its head away from her neck, spraying tiny droplets of her crimson blood in