Novel & Cerita Outside Woman By Bloodstone

~•~•~• ANNA’S POV The nights in Bloodstone always smelled of iron and pine. Thick. Cold. Restless. The kind of air that clung to your throat like a secret you couldn’t cough out. I sat by the window, staring into the dark forest stretching behind the packhouse, fingers tracing the lip of my glass absentmindedly. The wine had long gone warm, but I still held it — because I needed to hold something. Something that didn’t breathe, didn’t judge, didn’t whisper Ella’s name under its breath.

“We need the moonstone, not trinkets.” Blake rolled his eyes but kept pace, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “It looks the same to me. Shiny rock, shiny rock.” Jamie ignored him, already leaning over a counter draped in velvet. The vendor, an older woman with eyes as sharp as a hawk’s, laid out polished stones—each one glowing faintly under the sunlight. True moonstone shimmered with a silvery-blue fire, the kind the pack required for the bonding circle. “This one,” Jamie murmured, holding the stone between her palms. It pulsed faintly, alive. She traded a pouch of coins without hesitation.

Adrian stirred but didn’t wake — exhaustion had stolen even him. She paused at the doorway, her heart splintering as she looked back at him, peaceful in the rare glow of sleep. “Forgive me,” she whispered, voice breaking. Then she ran. Through the halls, the gardens, the gates her bare feet cut on the gravel, roses snagging her arms, leaving petals and blood in her wake. And Adrian, the man who had taken the world by force, slept unaware that his greatest conquest had slipped away.

he sighed, a sound of genuine, disappointed resignation. He pressed down. The blade tore into the flesh of my left forearm. A gasp of pure, unadulterated agony tore from my throat, my body violently jerking against the heavy metal chair. The thick leather straps bit mercilessly into my wrists and chest, holding me pinned, offering no escape from the searing heat of the blade. Hot, crimson blood began to well up from the deep, clean line he had drawn, spilling over my skin and dripping slowly, rhythmically, onto the pristine white tile floor. In the blinding brightness of the room, the blood looked unnaturally dark, almost black.

I’m willing to try just about anything if it means I can watch my little girl grow up. "Eat a raw vegetable that isn't a garnish," she goes on. "Walk to your appointments instead of being driven to them if they’re not too far. Take the stairs. Leave your phone in another room when you sleep." She smiles serenely, reaching for a small box filled with colorful rocks. “Hmm. There are several that would help, but I don’t want to overload you. Take this one.” She hands me a dark green stone with red spots. “That’s bloodstone. It helps healthy blood circulation and clears out negative energy.”

A wave of guilt consumed me as I continued. "The sacrifice needs to be a woman who is pregnant for this to work correctly, but I don't expect you to. We can try to make it work with anyone who volunteers." Cries of anguish and fear filled the room. To my surprise, one woman stood up. My heart ached as I watched her, her head held high as she moved forward. Many gasped as she stepped toward the front, parting to let her through. Creed and I stared at her in disbelief; it wasn't' something we expected. Many gave her a nod and bowed their heads as she walked forward. "I Rachel Bloodstone, wife and mate of Phillip Bloodstone volunteer." She shouted

Raising the wolf, she drew blood from it. The blood poured onto the Moon Stone, and it brightened under the moonlight as the blood flowed down the stone, covering its entire surface. The silver color of the stone glowed brightly, almost blinding me. A woman appeared. I had no idea where she had come from. She wore a silver crown and a white dress that made her look like the Moon Goddess. The chilling smile on her face could make someone's blood run cold. I could feel her pain, anger, sadness, and hurt. How could someone be this broken, yet I could still feel a sense of happiness within her?

The Blood Mistress is the one whose hair is the color of autumn and she sees the world through color brown—through russet eyes. And since both of them—Maebh and Romaine—possessed those, the two of them are the enemies that she had been looking for. Her enemy had been on her side all along, and had been close to her ever since she had known this world—the world where the creatures of the night lurk. The so-called Romaine Eastwood is Mary Bathory, the former Blood Mistress before she passed the title to her daughter. The blood of being the Blood Mistress still ran in her veins though, nevertheless the fact that she already passed her title.

I said, resisting the force which was Pulling me to the bloodstone. “ The bloodstone,” Carlo said with a gasp as he looked at the stone behind me with a gasp. All of their mouths fell open as they followed his gaze. “ It's strong, I can't fight it,” I said, trying to move forward but I couldn't. “ Don't fight it,” Aaron said, looking at me. “ What?” “ Don't fight it. Maybe it's trying to say something,” he said, looking between me and the stone. Listening to his words I stopped struggling. And the next moment I was pulled to the bloodstone. With a rapidly beating heart I waited for anything to happen.

She is extremely fragile, like flawless silk, and would easily bruise based on the red scars on her neck after I released her. I'm not sure why, but that information makes me happy. Because of my dirty nature or the simple truth, I've always enjoyed smashing things and then watching them disintegrate. People become raw and show their most profound, hidden agendas. The most recent addition to the group will be Rose. Given how she pierced me with those sad eyes as if it were her favorite sport, it's evident that it won't be easy. My thing throbs against my jeans as I return to the moment; I grasp her throat and feel her pulse in my fingers.