Sanguine Vampires Novels & Stories

Around him, the crimson stone of the Spire’s great hall stretched in obscene ceremony— glowing braziers painting sin across the walls and skin alike, the shadows dancing with predatory intent. Every breath was a baptism in something feral: incense and blood, sweat and death, musk and desire twisted into something unholy. And beneath it all, a scent that turned his stomach and tightened his gut— copper and rot, ancient and masculine. Vampire. The sound came next. A low-throated moan, a hum that pulsed like an unseen flogger against the meat of his bones. “Sanguine princeps… stella crimson… nova aurora…”

And that never happens. I tip the cup in my hand and down the last bit of the blood-brewed coffee. Thick, dark, and bitter on my tongue. A blend from the Carmine Arabica plantations, the kind of beans only cultivated in blood-fed soil. Vampires have been growing it for centuries. We call it Sanguara. It's just enough to pass for normal and keep the skin from going pale. It dulls the thirst too. But it doesn’t drown it. Especially mine and my brothers’.

His presence presses against my instincts, a compulsion that is designed to bend, to dominate, to remind lesser beings of their place. It is not brute force. That would be crude. This is refinement honed by centuries, an unspoken command woven into the air itself. The kind that seeps into bone and breath alike. This is not something vampires resist. But I do. What they do not know, what most assume incorrectly, is that I am merely a Sanguinari hybrid. They forget that I am a Matesson, the spawn of an original. And I am a Graham, of human blueblood.

My skin had changed its color as well, adding some shade to my naturally pale complection. Something about drinking straight from something alive did this to us, that and the wave of pleasure and satisfaction we feel while doing it. Which lead some vampires to use that as their only way of acquiring the blood we needed to survive. It wasn't hard to get addicted to if you let yourself. I wasn't quite sure how it happened or why it only happened when we took blood fresh. My tongue rubbed against the top of my mouth, the taste of her blood still lingering in my mouth. It was pretty much the only thing about humans that I didn't understand.

Andro has to fight to stay by his mate's side and fight off the new enemy waging a war against his family; his mafia family while protecting his identity as a vampire. CHAPTER ONE Annika’s POV In the chant of the black night, the stars were the choir, they were nights singing in an unusual pattern, singing a tone of death. Few minutes past ten, the once-cleared skies had transformed into a vast expanse of jet-black as the night laid down in a blanket of darkness.

The people at the inn will notice that something is wrong. I understood what it meant when I saw Ryson drinking blood from that maid. Feeding on humans. On weak people. I had read too many books, watched too many movies, heard too many stories about myths and legends, liked fiction very much. Where humans and vampires didn't get along. Most stories ended in romance, hate, war and death. I wondered how my story will be like seeing that my life is now twisted with these creatures. Vampires. Just saying the name creeps me out. Chills running up and down my spine like waves on the sea.

Alexis spread her arms, and closed her eyes for a moment on there right now. “Ego Alexis Calder. Hominibus puro sanguine in corpore toto. Purus lamia venator sanguis. Auxilium tuum peto venatores lamia in circuitu mundi. Ubicumque es, modo ad me veni. Auxilium tuum mihi opus est contra bellum cum lamis malis. Huc veni, quaeso, venatores lamia circum orbem. Adiuva me ut perficiam propositum vitae meae ut mala lamia ex hac terra deleam. Ponere posse stateram vitae nostrae, sicut venatores lamiae, boni lamiae, et homines. Ego Alexis Calder, venator vampire sangui- nis. Iterum te rogans, venatores lamia in circuitu mundi ad me veni et adiuva me ut hoc bellum vincas. Veni. et veni...” Alexis mutt

For someone who has been sucked out of blood by five teenage vampires, she sure is tough enough to manage to still live. After a few moments later, he felt immobilized. Her blood's addicting scent attacked Clayton's senses. Holding her this close made him immediately addicted by her whiff. How could he miss this scent even with his super sensitive sense of smelling awhile ago? It's like a sweet but intense scent that he never encountered throughout his years of existence. He could not get himself out of the trance the lady's scent put him into. Despite the control hunters like him possessed. Despite his disgust with messy, splattered blood.

The expressions of the individuals underwent a transformation, shifting from those resembling humans to those of nocturnal creatures. Their mouths watered, leaving a trail of saliva as they gazed hungrily at the delicious meal before them. The scent of the girl's blood was peculiar, drawing their noses towards her with an irresistible pull. The aroma was intoxicating, a rare olfactory delight that only graced their senses once every few centuries. The sweet, metallic tang of blood filled the air, a scent that was both alluring and repulsive. "D*mn! Without delay, we must convey her to the presence of His Majesty! I'm sure every vampire in this area will go after her!” At the sound of a voice

She moved to her Dad's side while bringing her laptop closer as her legs began to ache from standing. Sanguis wants to make sure he understood Luna correctly, "What's on her neck?" When Luna looked at her father and said, "An arrow mark or tattoo," he shrugged and she began working on her laptop. Arrow? Where did he see that mark? The spear was the symbol of Sangre Kingdom. Which country in the realm of vampires has an arrow mark? He was now certain, nevertheless, that a vampire was watching over his daughter. Out of the blue, Sanguis' phone rang, jolting him out of his daydream. When he saw his wife's name flash on the screen, he answered it right away.