Red Hood All Blade Novels & Stories

BLADE 3. Pain. It was all I felt when I shot my eyes opened. I felt so sore and tired. The memories of how Lorenzo plunged deeper into me last night filled my mind. He was so cruel to me. I didn't find any enjoyment in it at all. I tried lifting my hands and I was happy It was back to functioning. My tit hurts too as a result of the sucking he did last night.

A silent storm of blades descended toward him, their masks gleaming in the firelight. And still he didn’t stop. One attacker lunged. Ryder sidestepped, blade flashing once, and the masked warrior fell without a sound. Another came from behind. Ryder dropped low, swept his legs, and slit his throat in one motion. A third dropped from above. Ryder caught him mid-fall, twisted his arm until bone snapped, and hurled him into two others. Men around him watched in stunned horror. Even enemies paused just to understand what they were seeing. Renna whispered, “He isn’t fighting like a wolf.”

Rose Blade was a horrible boss, and I was planning to take his business for this very reason. He never verifies the supplied information after he sees the money offered. Most of the profiles lie. I was stuck with this man. I highly doubted my self-defense skills working here. I looked at him as he leaned closer, attempting to touch me. I had warned him away, but he was smugly smiling at me. He looked at me like I was his wounded prey. His eyes looked scary and wolfish ready for the hunt.

his voice drifted through the ionizing air, calm as a priest’s. “The one with the pulse-dampener. Take the legs first.” I didn't answer, but my body pivoted. I dropped low, my silk maternity robe snapping like a whip as I swept the lead Harvester's shins. The Sovereign strength was a terrifying, heavy thing—the titanium alloy buckled under my strike with the crunch of dry wood. As it hit the floor, I buried the Phantom Blade in its chest plate, punching through the heart of the power core. Another surge. The smell of scorched insulation and hot copper filled the nursery.

His lower lip was bleeding and his eyes were on me, shocked and apologetic at the same time as if he just realized what he had done. “Holly I—” “Don’t you dare lay a finger on my Mate, Alec Aoki!” He snarled, his eyes deadly and frightening, “Or I will not think twice of tearing your Pack out of the Alliance and killing you!”

He was the wealthy, arrogant playboy girls would swoon around, and also the Blade family's eldest son. "Ezekiel?” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Ezekiel Blade,” he said. "Why are you without your glasses, freckle face?” He always mentioned his last name like he was nothing without it. But I knew that he loved the name so much as it meant people would fear him. I rolled my eyes, pulling my hand away from his grip. “Still a bully, huh? Besides, I don't wear glasses anymore, and I'm definitely not freckle face. It's Lydia Winters,” I said, mimicking his words.

A blade flashed from his sleeve. Celeste turned before the strike could land. Jason’s attack never reached its target. The corridor went still in the instant after, the kind of stillness that arrives only when a choice has been made and the universe is waiting to see who survives it. Jason’s expression shifted from confidence to disbelief to something far uglier when he realized Celeste had been watching him the whole time. “You really should have stopped,” she said. He lunged anyway. That was the end of it. Celeste struck with a force that did not need repetition. There was no drawn-out struggle, no dramatic reversal, no heroic save. Just finality. Jason’s power broke first, then his body f

Glacier pressed the attack mercilessly, aiming for the other eye. Roosevelt frowned. From thin air, the first Dark Blade—the original weapon he had ever forged—materialized in his hand. He hurled it with deadly precision. The blade tore through the air and sank deep into Glacier’s right wing. Blood sprayed in a wide arc. Raphael lost balance, cursing violently. “If that’s how you want it,” Raphael growled. He swung Frostbite wildly at Roosevelt. “Shadow Scale,” Roosevelt whispered. Raphael’s sword burst into flames and crumbled to ash in an instant. Shock flashed across his face.

I gripped my hellblades more firmly, feeling its ruby-red sheen pulse in my hand. Whatever this was, I wasn’t going to be caught off guard. Then it came, her darker side flickered.

He had sustained gunshot wounds to his leg and his abdomen, his body covered in horrific lacerations, and the white shirt he had worn was entirely stained a gruesome crimson. ​That was an image I never, in my worst nightmares, imagined I would ever have to witness. In that chaotic moment, I hadn't given a single thought to Archie, who was also bloody and battered nearby. I had completely lost my mind, screaming and fighting against the arms holding me back, desperate to crawl to Dominic's side as he lay unresponsive to the frantic sound of his name ripping from my throat.