Sinister Blade Novels & Stories

Some wished to have him as their soulmate but who knew he was jotted down in no one's faith? Evandros breathed heavily, holding his blade up in the air. That blade wasn't even his dark blade through which he became the victor. His powers were alone enough to make any sword almost as powerful as his dark blade. His eyes roamed through the crowd and halted on Marco. He pointed the tip of his sword at Marco making everyone look at him. Marco was surprised by the sudden attention towards him. "You better hail my name as well." Marco was flushed by that boy's audacity.

Dexter said aloud as we heard the door leading to the other sections of the mansion open. Everyone's gaze was fixed on the passageway leading to the stairs, waiting in excitement to see what our Alpha had to present. And when I was beginning to think that our Alpha's surprise was a flop, I saw the hugest scare of my life. The whole hall fell into chaos as most people screamed and yelled in fear while others like myself stood speechless and motionless. It was a man. A man whose reputation spoke for itself. It was the legendary Alpha Blade, known in Haven as The Ripper.

And the crystal dagger on my hand possessed the same crest. “The Balaraw is now officially the Luna’s Blade!” Edith announced and step up the podium with Hadleigh in her arms. And this time, the bitter smile on my lips and the question in my head about the dagger now has a clearer reason. With my free hand, I stretched my hand and carried my blue-eyed little man in my arms. A tear escaped from my eyes as I bent my head to touch Hadleigh’s forehead with mine. “Hence, this is what your father wanted for this thing. And to you, our child, who’ll grow filled with love and courage like a blade.”

"The cut . . . How is this important?" "That cut is not ordinary." Calix's face darkened. "The blade Navea tried to hurt you with—it is made from the metal mined at the rim of Sygnus, the void in the Underworld. When imbued with the right spells, it can take a mortal's soul to Hell regardless of its purity. While it can do so without killing the body instantly, the physical form with rot from the inside over a short period of time." Flashes of Damien's blackened neck appeared in Kat's mind. "So Damien's been hurt by this blade too. I got hurt by it. Does that mean I have no soul anymore?"

“She did this. I know she did.” He was running mad, I decided. He was looking for who to blame and the easiest person to put it on was Madison. It wasn’t like she knew he’d be here—she’s not that bright. Alexander deserved to know an answer, and there was honestly no use hoarding it anymore. I cleared my throat to get his attention. When his eyes met mine, I lowered my gaze to my hands. “I know who stabbed you, and it wasn’t Madison.” He scrutinized me for a second. “Oh yeah? Then who was it? It has to be her. She sent that guy. She’s crazy and—!”

The air crackled with unspoken animosity as they engaged in a tense, emotional banter, the weight of past grievances and unspoken conflicts hanging heavily between them. As the conversation reached a fever pitch, Satan's chilling words cut through the air like a blade, informing Asmo that he was right at the door. In a swift and calculated motion, Asmo summoned his "Saber," a formidable weapon that served as the extension of his very being. The blade materialized, its form reminiscent of a dark, solidified storm cloud, crackling with an otherworldly energy that bespoke its deadly purpose.

“I’m not raising this pup alone, Kieran Byrne. You fight like the monster they fear, and you come home to me.” One last kiss—deeper, slower, a vow sealed in heat and breath. Then I force myself to release her. I grab my blades from the rack, silver and steel whispering against leather. I do not look back. If I do, I won’t leave. The heavy doors groan behind me as I stride out. The indigo symbols on my chest warm like living embers. Outside, the night air is cold and sharp, carrying the distant scent of enemy resin and fear sweat.

"There is one way." Kael looked up. "What way?" "The Twin Blades can cut more than flesh. They can cut hatred itself." Silence fell. Kael frowned. "You mean..." "They can separate Lucien's soul from the abyss." Hope flickered across Seraphine's face. "But only if he accepts it." Everyone looked toward Lucien. He was barely standing. Darkness covered half his face. His heartbeat was becoming the heartbeat of the abyss once again. The monster inside him laughed. "He will never let go."

The familiar weight settled into his grip like an old companion. For a moment he stood perfectly still, letting the quiet settle around him. Then he began. The blade moved through the air in slow, controlled arcs. Steel cut through the morning mist. Again. Again. Again. Each motion was deliberate. Measured. His breathing fell naturally into rhythm with the movement of the sword. Training had always been the only place where Adrian’s mind truly quieted. The past faded. The memories of the borderlands, the hunts, the bloodshed—they all blurred into the background.

Her hands fumbled in the corner, the sound of zippers and clattering makeup spilling onto the floor. “I—I can’t find it!” she stammered. The shadow creature twisted under me, throwing its weight. My grip slipped, claws raking down my ribs. Pain flared white and hot. “You’ll find it now,” I snapped, forcing its head against the rug. “Or she dies!” That jolted her. Pelin scrambled to her bag, yanking the red crescent blade free. It glowed faintly, the markings along its edge pulsing like embers.