Mine Blood Ties Novels & Stories

My father had to carry me out of the room. From that day on, part of his blood was mine. The elves call it a Blood-Sworn Tether. Older than a Mate Bond. Deeper than a Mate Bond. The only thing that can break it is my death.

He had been in the expertise for decades and can't mistake things that easily. "It's a blood tie Damon" He said once again and Damon shook his head " You can't be serious, why would someone blood tie her, why would someone even do that" Damon asked, refusing to register the shock. People that was severely blood tie usually ended up dying if the host chooses to eliminate them. Blood tie was something very dangerous and Damon had personally bound it from the pack. The same thing had happened to his first mate, Valerie had been blood tied the same way and that had added to the cause of her death.

“We’re going to go through this.” One thing he understood about blood ties; no matter how much control someone had on themselves, they would cave in to the blood ties. In order to help Mira to ease her transformation and gained better control of herself, severing the blood ties was her only option. Cohen knew that one day Damien would use the blood ties on her if she shifted before she severed the blood ties. Blood dies were created solely for the purpose to control the subordinate. That was how the master often controlled their slaves. It was time to expand the search for Damien Kincaid.

"I gave her a bigger problem to solve." "And when she realizes it's fake?" I looked at Zephyr, pale and still on the medical bed, then back at Kaine. "By then, we'll be ready for her." "We?" "The princes of the four territories and a Moonsinger." I smiled, showing teeth that were slightly sharper than they should be. "Whether you like it or not, we're bound together now. Your brother's blood carries traces of mine. That creates... connections." "What kind of connections?"

Usually in a pack, the males claimed the female, and the others just learned to live with or beat the hell out of each other. What Thaddeus seemed to suggest was an additional bond, one that would also tie them as more than friends. "Before I say yes, does this involve any kinky shit? Because I'll admit, while I admire and covet Toni's ass, yours, not so much." Thaddeus laughed. "The tie I speak of is one of blood. A bite exchange where I inject you with some of my essence. It will link us and allow us to share some of our thoughts and feelings. It will protect you against my kind as well."

There are ties that form beyond the will of man or wolf, ties that do not wait for acceptance. Silence filled the room. Damian's expression hardened, his gaze focusing on the text. They bind through blood, through lineage, through something other than choice. "No," Damian said quietly. He continued reading. Such bonds are rare, often unwelcome and often misunderstood. His jaw clenched as he read on. They do not weaken through distance. They do not fade through denial. Damian paused, his mind moving faster than his body. This wasn't coincidence; this was something. He lifted the scroll again, continuing to read.

“Look. I just realized that this is a trap that Penelope has set for us. The first step I took when I found this buried in Penelope was cutting her open and taking it out but because of that, Penelope got her blood and it made her vulnerable and open for manipulation by Penelope. She told me herself. Now that she has Minx’s blood, she tried out the blood ties ritual. “In the days of old, when a witch or any supernatural except vampires wanted to track down any of their relatives or kill anyone related to them no matter how distant and thin their ties are, all they had to do was give some of their blood to a shaman or a witch and they would do it. “But the thing is that, nobody knows which in

Ironic. The thought dragged a dry, humorless laugh from my throat. It echoed in the sterile silence of my office, a place that smelled of lemon polish and an underlying decay. My vision was now swimming on the edge of a crimson haze, each blink more laborious than the last. My hands trembled uncontrollably, and I curled them into fists, nails digging into my palms—useless pain that did nothing to steady me. Then it hit me: Bloodmatch. The name pressed against my consciousness like a shadow that refused to lift, a curse and a promise all at once—dangerous, illicit, irresistibly seductive.

I said softly while sitting across him, "also some mysterious man came in to give you blood when you were running and there's a chance he might be related to me." Draven arched a brow at me, "what are you talking about? I lost that much blood." "Yes, it was really that the man who gave you blood is currently unconscious," I said calmly eating another sandwich. "I am a special type A positive blood, only type A neutral can give me blood and I highly doubt that the person who gave me blood is neutral if there's a tendency that you both are related." "Exactly, I'm type A negative but I was still able to give him blood, maybe there's more to it, can I go see him?" He said, about to stand up but

the nurse came running back, panting. John Mckay’s weary head shot up and fear pulled at his heartstrings, “What is it? Have you gotten the blood bag?” The nurse was exasperated, “No sir, we’ve run out of her blood type. She’s got a very rare blood type. I came to ask if you have any relatives or friends who might be - ” John Mckay’s face lit up, “It’s not that rare, I’m A positive, both my late wife and I are A positive. I can donate my blood to –“