Legacy Of The First Blade Novels & Stories

But both of them didn’t give up and still dove head-on, placing their hearts on the line and giving both males the benefit of the doubt. And look where they are now? But I also knew Blade was different from their males. While Lucius and Adan are experiencing love for the first time with Patrea and Lucy, Blade is the opposite. He had loved before and didn’t want to let go of that love, even if the person was no longer here. How could I challenge that? I was so resigned to just giving up and moving on, but I knew deep inside I wanted Blade. And I wanted him to see me as me, not as a replacement for his former mate.

Facing off against the Reverend across from them had them feeling immense pressure despite having inherited Blade Hero’s legacy. “Do you want to know what Blade Hero wanted to say to you before he died?” Tyr raised a brow as he stared at the Reverend. “What did he say?” The Reverend asked. Tyr answered, “He said that anyone who inherits his legacy only needed to help him accomplish one thing once they left. That was to kill the beast, Quinn Newman, and avenge him. “Quinn Newman, are you happy to learn that Blade Hero was thinking about you before he passed?

The legacy? 'Forget irrelevant things,' Blade snapped, his energy pulsing with barely restrained frustration. He had always hated those rules, grumbled about them constantly, saying they were outdated and unfair. 'And what about Lillian?' I argued. 'Didn’t we both agree she would make a damn fine Luna? That she could make us happy?' There was a short pause before Blade growled low. 'She might’ve made a good Luna, but she was never ours, I am sure she would understand. Now, either talk to him or leave all the talking to me.’

He hesitated then asked, “Did I really do all that shit?” “Yeah, you did.” Greer crossed his arms over his chest. “You committed just about every sin in the book and you probably made some new ones up along the way. Your dad taught you well.” “I think you’re right about that but I can’t remember him or anyone here. Hell, I don’t even remember me.” Blade shook his head. “Tell me something, do I have a given name or just Blade?” “Your given name is Blade Marken. Your dad was Jerad Marken AKA Repo. I never knew your mom but his club was the Hade’s Messengers. You come from around Decatur, Alabama.”

This only made him get angry and beat her harder. “I don’t care if you die! I would not take anyone disrespecting me! You don’t do that to me!He kept blabbering like he was a god, insisting on being respected. He did not care if she died. Someone walks into the end and meets her being beaten by Quincy. It’s Andrew, Quincy’s beta who can only do nothing but watch Elena be beaten up. No one can stop Quincy from doing what he wants. It’s her parent’s fault for bringing her to such a man.

, Sebastian asked thoroughly confused by Adam’s words. “When he challenged Eloy Ahearn for the Alpha of Alphas title, you know to be the leader of all Alphas on the continent, he needed support to win the challenge. The only support he could get for his cause was with the humans. Especially, the group humans that despised werewolves. Your grandfather was blinded by his hunger for power and money, and agreed to all demands they made. I don’t know what was in the weapons they used, but they messed us up.”, Adam shared a piece of history with Sebastian that he had only vaguely heard of.

They had told me to go to bed, but how could I close my eyes after what had happened? The phone calls never stopped all night. Different numbers, different voices, different updates. The Blade men were already hunting a name—Rocco Valeri. The bastard who killed Andrew. I sometimes forgot how ruthless and skilled the Blades were—especially with their own enemies. I prayed they found him. But I also knew something. When the Blade family hunts a foe, they don't seek revenge, they seek annihilation. I hadn't even realized I had dozed off until the sound of heavy boots storming into the living room jolted me awake. I sat up sharply, my heart pounding.

They stared. Then the oldest among them—a man they called Vero—leaned forward. “You bring war to our doorstep, boy,” he rasped. “You better bring victory with it.” “I bring you something better,” I said. “Legacy. Not Giovanni’s cult of power. But true empire.” “And why should we trust you?” another growled. I unsheathed my dagger. Held it high. Then drove it into my own palm. The blood hit the table like a thunderclap.

“You know it’s not that simple, not to mention this legacy my mother’s always going on about.” “What’s the point of being king of Lycans and werewolves if you can’t do what’s best for us?” Frost countered, his tone turning serious. “Tell me, what’s more important: that legacy or your happiness?” Frost eased up on the teasing, speaking more earnestly. He and Andriel were one; if Andriel’s human side perished, Frost would too, and that was something he wasn’t willing to let happen.

Not with Nova and Isla behind me, not with Blade at my side. Blade’s strikes were brutal, calculated, forcing it to split its focus. Every time it committed to one attack, we met it with another. I could see the frustration building—an unfamiliar expression for something that seemed unstoppable. And then, the first real opening appeared. Its arm overshot, leaving its side exposed. I drove my knife deep, twisting, and felt resistance give way. A hiss, a howl of fury—but it staggered. Nova gasped, clutching Isla tighter.