Outside Woman By Bloodstone Novels & Stories

“Don’t mourn for them, my love. They wouldn’t have shown you any mercy.” A sigh escaped her lips, a whisper of resignation. “Yes, yes, I know. But still…” I silenced her with a kiss, tasting the salt of her tears, the exhaustion on her lips. “Come, I see the bloodstone.” The moonlight illuminated the place where the bloodstone lay on top of a jagged rock formation that looked like a sacred altar. The bloodstone was nothing more than a piece of dark green crystal with red splashes that mimicked blood spatter on it. It didn’t look like much, but some say it had magical powers.

~•~•~• 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.

She just walked home holding Mateo’s hand, repeating the lie she needed to survive. I am dead. Dead women don’t look back.

"Everything within 50 miles is my territory. Who would dare send you to an Alpha's house to steal?" The Rogue fumbled in his shirt with trembling hands and pulled out a small pouch. I opened it, and inside were several spirit stones of mediocre quality. These stones weren't top-grade, but they'd fetch decent money on the black market. To a Rogue, this was a fortune. "A woman made me do it!" The Rogue rushed to deflect blame. "She's from Blackrock Mine. The woman's legs are crippled, but she's pretty hot. She said she was the lady of this house and bad people had ruined her.

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.”

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 cleared my throat, looking over at Alora, her free hand finding mine. "I, Damon Bloodstone, accept this bond and the crown that follows. I will protect my people with my life and bind myself to the mothers and the mate they have gifted me." My eyes didn't leave Alora's as I felt the blade slice across my palm. The silver burned as it pierced the skin, and blood pooled in my palm. "Now, Alora, repeat after me." Melody continued.