Mud And Blood 3 Novels & Stories

My feet felt light and my head heavy. My clothes were wet and clung to my body. My hands squished in the dirt turned mud beneath me. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion as I tried to figure out what was going on. I struggled as I tried to remember something, anything. Flashes of training with Jade, the earth cracking open, and the mud monster flit through my mind. The mud monster.

Captive III Third Person’s POV Strings of red viscous blood splattered down the soil of the mountain floor, and the green leaves of the trees looked horrendous at the rain of red liquid that fell down on them like a faint but unending drizzle. Soran used his sword to parry the slash of his opponent royal guard as he swiped his leg down the other’s unguarded side before hacking down on the left leg that bent from enduring his kick. A muffled groan escaped the lips of his opponent, but Soran merely snorted as he now hacked at the other party’s sword-wielding arm.

“Now Solterra has no ruler and completely ruined. I will die happily.” “You, bastard!” I yelled and my hands shook. Without further ado, I sauntered towards him and gave him alluvion of fiery attacks. He welcomed me with an arrogant smirk. He blocked and defended himself but this time I’m faster and more powerful than him. He was thrown away when he was hit. But I got more pissed when he still managed to laugh even when he was already coughing blood. “I think I underestimated you. I didn’t know you are actually more powerful than I expected. You are really something.”

the crazy crowd that loved the sight of blood. Suddenly, Blue Blood hit Neil in the abdomen, and he crashed heavily on the floor. Blue Blood instantly rose to his feet... I saw it again... the fangs, the inhumane golden eyes filled with bloodlust, and the claws that had replaced the nails on his fingers. He was ready to fight back with his ability. Neil was shocked—I could see the shock on his face as he crawled away from Blue Blood, who was staring at him with so much bloodlust. At the same time, Neil rose to his feet with his eyes glued on Blue Blood. I could feel his resignation to fight back as he extended his own claws again.

I nodded my head doing a mental check on all the things I needed to do before leaving, I need my bags, and a shower, I could still smell the blood. The car came to a stop in front of a building, it was an abandoned cabin surrounded by nothing but trees for miles, it had broken windows, and a huge sign with red paint splattered all over it, that looked almost like dried blood, on the one intact window, the fake blood wrote ‘GET OUT’ a mark in the front that almost looked like a gash.

The wind howled violently, scratching at my throat until I felt an itch that seemed to make me want to cough. "Enough talking. Choose, or I'll let them both go." At Amber's signal, the men next to us hoisted both me and Tara up. The salty sea breeze hit me in the face, and the sharp smell of ocean water churned my stomach. However, nothing compared to the screaming in my ears. Before I could even draw a breath, Ethan had already made his choice. At that moment, everything went silent. Amber instinctively turned to look at me. My vision flickered and spots of black clouded my sight, but I did not know why.

Then she asked Maximus, “He isn’t dead, is he?” “No,” Maximus answered. “He is just gravely ill.” Julianne wondered if that was supposed to make her feel better, because it didn’t. She would frequently look over at him as Maximus carried him on their way back to the dorm. On getting to the dorm, Julianne was faced with more horror than she could ever imagine. There were traces of blood and blood spills. When she stepped inside, she saw bodies lying around and few of the boys that stayed behind wearing dark expressions, some of which she recognized to be werewolves.

I almost puked knowing what they did. My fangs slid down before I even realized it, my mouth filling with the bitter taste of disgust. Marcus Blackwood. The High Chamber’s sharpest blade. ********* Three centuries of discipline, blood, and war—and he was down there in the mud with that half-breed mistake like some lovesick animal. They were loud,careless too. The kind of loud that comes when two people forget the world exists. I dug my nails into the trunk of the pine tree beside me until the bark cracked beneath my fingers and sap bled down the wood.

I bit his shoulder, my teeth sinking through the grime and soot until I tasted the bitter, metallic tang of the silver oil in his blood. He didn't flinch. He threw his weight forward, slamming us both into the deep mud at the edge of the ridge. We rolled down the slippery slope, our bodies tangled in the scarlet silk and the wet clay, fighting for the hilt of the dagger like two dogs over a bone in the rain.

He kicked the heavy armored door of his luxury SUV, the metal groaning as he violently forced it open, stepping out into the freezing, sideways highland deluge. His polished leather shoes immediately sank six inches into the thick, freezing peat mud, ruining his tailored trousers. Above him, the sky boomed with another massive roll of thunder, as if the glen itself were laughing at his ruined vanity. Looking down the ravine, he watched his highly paid, heavily armed human mercenaries shrieking in terror as giant silver wolves ripped through their tactical gear, while silent, invisible elven arrows rained death from the canopy. Malakai stood in the mud, his hair plastered to his face, his eye