Luka Tak Berdarah Novels & Stories

I took the small dagger from my belt and sliced a deep, horizontal line across my palm. The room gasped. My blood didn't just drip; it flowed, glowing with a faint, ethereal lavender light. The scent hit the room like a physical wave, honeysuckle, old magic, and a metallic tang that made the wolves' hackles rise. I went to Leo first. I pried his jaw open and let the glowing ichor fall into his mouth. The effect was instantaneous. The black veins on his neck didn't just fade; they hissed as if they were being burned away. His skin flushed with a healthy, wolfish warmth. He gasped, his eyes snapping open, gold, not black.

Lila crawled forward, her scream tearing from her lungs. Lucas lunged again, but too late. Arika spun, aimed, and fired. The gunshot echoed like thunder. The bullet struck Lucas in the forehead. Time slowed. His body twisted mid-air, momentum failing him. The silver bullet burned as it tore through flesh and bone. He hit the floor with a hollow thud, eyes still open. Dead. “LUCAS!” Lila screamed so loudly the walls seemed to tremble. She dragged herself across the floor, each movement excruciating. Blood from her wounds mixed with the blood pooling beneath him. Her trembling fingers touched his fur—still warm. Still soft.

I can't keep it up, my body is draining to quick to replenish through the earth. I turn to the left, seeing Mira as she holds hands with one of her fellow witches, throwing fire at a close by lycan who is fighting Connor, Connor quickly finishing him off. Next to him I watch a Lycan rip out Lukas's throat, my heart breaking for the young warrior as he returns to his human form, falling to the ground. The light leaving his eyes as his life ends. My heart breaks for the young warrior; as I turn back to the lycan king and his son Jarrod.

I catch a whiff of her scent, so potent that I can’t figure out why her smell was muted everywhere but at this spot. I shift, kneeling in the grass, feeling it pressed down from the impression of her body, my eyes scanning each blade of grass until I see it. Specs of her crimson blood are splattered over the grassy clearing. My heart falls straight into my stomach at the sight. There was a fight here last night, a fight she hadn’t won. “Is— is that her blood?” Luke asks, kneeling against a tree, holding his collarbone that is bruised and cut from my teeth.

She stirred, her tiny lips parting as if to cry, and I pressed a finger to her mouth, whispering softly. “It’s okay, baby… Mommy’s here. We’re safe now.” But even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t true. Luca dropped to his knees beside me, clutching his arm. His breathing was ragged. When I reached for him, he shook his head weakly. “I’ll be fine. You need to rest.” “You’re not fine,” I said sharply. “You’re losing blood again.” He gave me a faint smile. “I’ve had worse.”

she stated and snuggled to his arm, smiling widely. Luca said nothing but focused on the paper in his hand. When their numbers were called, they entered one of the consultation rooms. After Hecara got a thorough check-up, Luca was told that she had no issues with her health as she was perfectly healthy. "See, I am healthy..." Hecara said proudly. Luca, puzzled by the health result, shook his head. He saw her coughing blood and he was sure something was wrong with her health. "But, I saw her coughing blood and the stains are still-" he paused when he found no bloodstains on his suit. He frowned as he processed the situation. How did the stain get rid of itself?"

POV: Aria Blood. So much blood. It spreads across the pavement beneath Luca's body, dark and warm. My hands are soaked with it, pressed against the wound in his chest. The bullet hole is small, almost innocent looking, but blood keeps pumping through my fingers. "Luca, stay with me!" I scream. "Don't you dare close your eyes!" His eyes flutter. Unfocused. His lips move but no sound comes out. "Medic!" Dante is shouting. "We need a medic now!"

Too small for the air I was endeavoring to pull in. “Talk to me,” Luca said suddenly. “About what?” “Anything.” “I cannot think,” I said. “I can only hear the shots.” He nodded once. “That is normal.” “I was holding him,” I said. “There was so much blood.” “He is strong,” Luca said. “He has survived worse.” “I do not want him to survive worse,” I said. “I want him to survive this.” “You two just got married,” Luca said. “He is not dying tonight.” “You do not know that.”

The grin falters on Luka’s face. I finally speak, my voice lethal with no room for question. “Move, Viktor.” Luka’s grin comes back. I smile to myself. He has no idea what he just volunteered for. *...*...*...*...*...*... The black mat is painted red with Luka’s blood. He’s on his back, blood pouring from his nose, one arm twisted under my knee. My fist is cocked for another strike when his free hand slaps the mat three times in desperation.

Lulla smiled briefly as she spoke to Frans, who was on the verge of tears because of his condition. "Please don't swear in front of my baby ... I don't want him to be a foul-mouthed child when he grows up." "You really are ...." Frans struggled to hold back his tears when he cut his hand so that Lulla could drink his blood. At first, Lulla refused because she didn't want to shorten Frans' life. But once Frans insisted, Lulla finally gulped down the blood with a furrowed brow. Although Lulla was a half-witch, who used blood as a medium for her powers, that did not mean she enjoyed drinking blood like vampires do. Lulla tried to hold back nausea that rose in her throat as she swallowed Frans'