Mud Blood 3 Novels & Stories

Robert looks the best out of all three of them with just some mud covering him. I see the small limp in Archie's leg as he walks in along with a pretty big trail of blood dripping on his exposed stomach that's coming from a cut just next to his side. He holds his white t-shirt in his hand which's also covered in mud. I look up at his face to see his lip busted along with a small cut right above his eyebrow that's dripping with sweat and blood.

Blood splatters against the floor, merging into the pool with a soft slap. I laugh. It’s a low, broken gurgle—but it’s real. I spit blood onto the boot of the one closest through torn lips. “Missed a spot,” I rasp with a sinister chuckle. His fist slams across my face hard enough to make the world explode in white. My jaw shifts wrong. Blood fills my mouth like wine. Tears burn the edges of my vision, but I refuse to let them fall. “Still got a mouth on her,” one sneers. “Maybe it’s time for another cleansing.”

I say. "For what she expended." Maret chooses her words carefully. Sets them down like objects she is placing on a surface she isn't sure will hold them. "What she carries, what was revealed tonight, it isn't something we have a reference for. Not in living memory. The Moonblood hasn't manifested fully in generations." She pauses. "She used a significant portion of it in a very short time. The shift. The fight. And then what she did for you." She says that last part without inflection.

" Fredrick was horrified to see the blood on his hands. And he dived, lying motionless on the ground. Angela was devastated by what had happened and was unable to move to observe Fredrick on the ground. When her wounded hand slid into something hard square in the mud, it was almost dark, but twilight gave her enough light to crawl away from Fredrick's body. She examined the object and discovered a thick small book coated with mud. She drew it from the mud and began to flee the area, running quickly and stumbling most of the time. She went through the back gate to avoid being seen with blood and mud. She entered the pink room, locked the door, tossed the book, and went to the shower room to w

The trees leaned as though trying to flee. ⸻ Day Seven. The final countdown. Ava stood by the ancient ruins, the wind wrapping around her like a cloak. Achi joined her, his body tense but steady. “We started this with fear,” she said, her voice clear, “but we’ll finish it with truth.” Behind them, Marcus and Darius watched in silence. Neither dared speak. The ground itself seemed to breathe with anticipation. The Blood Moon began to rise—larger than ever, swollen and pulsing with power. Its red light painted the world in warning.

In the parking lot, I spotted my car parked securely in its space. Grabbing a fire extinguisher, I marched over and smashed it against the window. A guard rushed over to stop me. "Stop! What are you doing smashing Mr. Green's car?" I smiled at him. "Sir, this isn't Mr. Green's car. It's mine." Reaching through the shattered window, I unlocked the door and pulled out the vehicle registration. "Here's my registration and ID. Feel free to verify them."

she cursed out loud, forgetting for a moment where she was. "Blood." Her abductor growled, a deep sound that sent shivers down her spine causing her to feel dread. "I hate the sight of blood." Hers was a rich red and thick blood that smelled nice and caused his nose to pucker. He tried so hard to contain his fangs but couldn't. They bared themselves out in agitation and he turned away immediately. It's been so long since he had any contact with human blood. The beastly side of him had become excited when they perceived the richness of her blood and had reared up its ugly head.

“Right there. In the open. Where everyone can see what happens when you cross me.” The phone buzzes again on the desk, another update coming in, and my pulse jumps. I grin. “Move everyone,” I say. “Tonight.” “Rules,” Lena asks. “There are none,” I say. “Only the hunt.” I picture Eli Blackwood boxed in by noise and lights and fragile lives, and my hands curl into fists. “I am not a coward,” I say softly. “And I do not care who dies learning that.”

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

The platform dropped out from under him, plunging him, the heavy block, and the two men behind him straight into the waist-deep, freezing mud. "Look at them," Reagan murmured, shaking her head. "Stephen terrified them so badly they can't even hold their focus to see the path." On the screen, the Claw Mountain warriors began shouting over each other, violently thrashing through the thick suction of the mud as they were forced to slog all the way back to the starting bank to retrieve new blocks, losing precious, irrecoverable minutes while the Frost cousins steadily cleared the pit and began spelling their password on the opposite side.