Razor's Edge Bloodline Novels & Stories

Not Hollow. Something else. It had Lord Virel’s shape. But no face. “Hello, Lyra,” it said, its voice like ash. “You thought blood would save you.” Kael stepped in front of her. Sword drawn. “Touch them and I’ll kill you again.” The shadow laughed. “You can’t kill what’s already dead.” It reached for the crib. Lyra moved. She put herself between it and the babies. Then cut her palm. “House,” she said.

“That’s truly shameful, more so than a surname ever could be.” “Really?” he snapped. “So you think a pack trying to protect themselves by removing someone with an infamous past, is worse than having the same infamous surname as two different known killers? Really?” “You’re shaming me!” I exclaimed at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Aren’t I your mate? Aren’t you supposed to, oh, trust me?! What could I ever do to you?” There was a beat of silence. “Your father never killed his alpha, only his beta.”

"I am guessing you are a pure blooded vampire as well." "Yes... yes my prince." Raziel snaked his hand round her neck, not actually holding it tightly, but he gave the princess fright. "I come from a bloodline of powerful vampires my prince. We would be the perfect fit." She managed to say, and Raziel pressed on her neck a little. "You have heard about me right? I don't look back when killing my victims." He then looked straight at her as if he was referring to her, and the princess' heart skipped. "Your life is on the line here princess."

“You need to concentrate. Reign it in. Don’t resist it.” “I’m not resisting,” she gasped. “I can’t—stop it!” The forest shook around them. Rael pushed Kyle aside, stepping directly into Lydia’s line of power. “She needs the truth, not soothing words.” Kyle snapped back, “Rael, don’t…” “She carries the bloodline,” Rael stated firmly. “The blood of the Eclipsed Line.” The impact of those words was like a knife wound. Lydia’s control faltered. Kyle inhaled sharply.

What unseen hand had placed Jace into this lineage? Then there was the Chevre. Damon Chevre, the only son, the dark spark igniting old wars. The man who killed Alice Grey—a blow aimed to sever the fragile alliance between the Chevre and the Bishop families. The blood feud that followed marked a new chapter. Damon’s death at the hands of Jace Grey was more than vengeance—it was a statement. Jace, the outsider turned keystone, had become a pivotal force—both protector and avenger. Not just a Grey by name, but a shadow lurking between them all, holding pieces of a future no one could yet see.

Guns were for enemies. From the weapons rack mounted on the wall, he removed an ancient blade, the symbol of the Family's authority. The blade was long and narrow, its edge gleaming cold. It was the instrument reserved for the execution of the highest-level traitors. In Marco's horrified and desperate eyes, Don Vincenzo did not hesitate. In one swift motion, the blade drove precisely into his heart. Marco's body convulsed violently once. Then he fell silent. It was over. Don Vincenzo took a white silk handkerchief and carefully wiped the blood from the blade. He turned to Lorenzo.

He was going to play the Grim Reaper tonight and he had no remorse about it. “You kept her because you wanted to prevent this. She is alive and it is still happening. You may be my King but I am your friend and your safety is more important to me than whatever that woman has to say” his voice firm. I had no energy to comment anymore. I still felt bursts of the antidote in my system that urged me to go lay down in an ice bath and tremors from my blood that had gone missing from the blade. All the hassle to get that sword was to secure my blood and it was just gone. Right under my nose.

Ironclaw warriors closest to him faltered mid-step, eyes snapping toward him in confusion and fear. The air seemed to thicken, pressing down on them like an invisible weight. One dropped to a knee with a strangled cry. Another staggered, hands clawing at his chest as if he couldn’t breathe. “What—” someone whispered. Eyrix didn’t recognize his own voice when he spoke. “Enough.” The word rippled outward Ironclaw froze. Ryder turned, blade dripping, eyes locking onto Eyrix. For a heartbeat, the world held still. Then Ironclaw’s commander stepped forward from the shadows, tall and armored in blackened steel etched with the sigil of Eyrix’s bloodline.

My blood turned to ice. Leonardo Ricci? The name alone carried weight, whispered in fear across dinner tables and back rooms. Stories about the blood on his hands, the coldness in his heart, the way even his allies spoke of him with caution. A man both feared and untouchable. A monster. And my father wanted to hand me over to him. I shook my head, words tumbling out in a rush. “No. I can’t. You can’t make me do this.” His gaze snapped to mine, sharp as a knife. “You will. Because your feelings and choices doesn’t matter here.What matters is survival. What matters is power. And with Ricci on our side, no one dares touch us.”

had been undercover within his older brother’s gang for years since it was our first mission given to us by the Death Kings the year Carley disappeared. “You are one of the traitors who killed my brother,” Razor snarls, spewing spittle in my face with his disgust. I fill a jolt of shock as the large hunting knife in his hand sinks into my chest, causing me to cry out in pain. His hand quickly slaps over my mouth to muffle my screams of agony. He doesn’t move until my limbs are laden, refusing to work, refusing to come to my aid even though I’m no longer pinned beneath him. “You’ll die and the others will know the pain I felt,” he growls walking away, disappearing before the sound of heavy fo