Legacy Of The First Blade Novels & Stories

They called it Virelance, the Blade of Dominion. Forged in the molten bones of the first gods and quenched in the tears of queens who lost everything for a throne. It had sliced kingdoms into maps, shattered vows into laws, and forced loyalty from love. More than a weapon, Virelance was a memory made metal—a threat of what could be if ever peace failed to hold. And for a time, peace did hold. But memory faded. And Virelance waited.

“Yes but that was because I drove her to it. I was much more ambitious in my younger years. I wanted to found a dynasty. If my mate could have produced Lycans then I would have bred an army’s worth.” “Why couldn’t your mate? It’s in your blood is it not?” I ask. “Yes I carry the genetics but only the women of our bloodline can produce Lycans.” He explains. “Us males just create normal Wolves. My daughter was the first female to be born of our bloodline for a hundred years. I should have cherished her. Protected her and instead I sought to use her.” I shut my eyes. The story sounds horribly familiar right now. “How have you changed your mind from what you were?”

it said. I stepped forward. The ground split beneath us as our power collided. The air bent inward, and the flames around us collapsed into drifting ash. I felt the bond between me and Kaelor stretch too thin. That was the first warning. The second was the cold. The heat vanished from my chest in an instant. The light shattered. And then it was too late. I did not see the blade until it was already inside me. There was no grand strike. No roar. Only the sudden weight of steel sliding through flesh and bone, exactly where the mark burned brightest.

I watched him carefully as he pressed a series of buttons until the wall slid open. Instantly, a green light shone directly into my face, nearly blinding me. Slowly opening my eyes, I saw a giant, long, green, shiny blade. It looked so polished that I could see my reflection staring back at me from its surface. "My ancestors and I have spent generations creating this blade. It's called the Blade of Poison," he whispered in astonishment, staring at the object before him as though it were a priceless trophy. Slowly, he pulled the blade from its sheath and brought it toward my face.

He studied the glowing inscriptions without daring to touch the weapon. “I have spent centuries collecting fragments of the First Script,” he said. “Most of it was destroyed long before the Night Empire was founded, yet the symbols appearing on this blade are identical to those preserved in the oldest ruins. If they have awakened now, then the sword has recognized something it has been waiting for.” Lucien looked at the old scholar. “What has it recognized?” Before Orion could answer, Nyx spoke quietly. “It recognized both of us.” The words drew every eye toward her.

BLADE 3. Pain. It was all I felt when I shot my eyes opened. I felt so sore and tired. The memories of how Lorenzo plunged deeper into me last night filled my mind. He was so cruel to me. I didn't find any enjoyment in it at all. I tried lifting my hands and I was happy It was back to functioning. My tit hurts too as a result of the sucking he did last night.

It screamed at me, urged me to feed my power into it. Nathan raised an eyebrow up at me. "I see. That is unfortunate. I guess we'll just have to do this the messy way." He picked up a knife from the table and studied it for a moment, turning it this way and that to look at it in the candlelight. I recognized it at the Ackland's sacred item, the Blade of Shezmu. "Do what?" John asked. I could feel him reaching into the earth below us with his power. Nathan looked at us. "Why, kill you, of course." He threw knife at John.

What more once he had fed enough? Blade released me for a second and tore his shirt, exposing his large frame. And when he saw wonder in my eyes, he said, “You are my first virgin. And you are going to be my last, too. I had to at least make your first experience worth it.” When Blade joined me on the bed and spread my legs, I knew I'd be going to hell for this.

The blade that had killed one of my mates. I stared at it, my vision swimming as memories rushed to the surface, unbidden, but undeniable. The first time I had held that blade in my hands, the first time I had seen the flash of steel that ended his life. The pain. The agony. The betrayal. I couldn’t breathe. The air had been sucked from my lungs, leaving me gasping for something, anything. But there was nothing. Nothing but the blade. The coldness. The memory. The death that had haunted me since.

The girl, who prided and found pleasure in coning sugar daddies with her late boyfriend. The fifteenth law of power…All great leaders since Moses have known that a feared enemy must be crushed completely, if one amber is left alight, no matter how dimly it smolders a fire will eventually break out. More is lost through stopping halfway than through total annihilation. The enemy will recover and will seek revenge. Crush him, not only in body but in spirit.