Sinister Blade Novels & Stories

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?"

he sniggers, pulling back his arm and revealing a curved blade with faint symbols engraved into the bone-carved handle. “For once Sybil was right. My brother really shouldn’t have left his gifts laying around,” Sam holds out the ominous weapon appearing older than all of us combined, ancient and tribal in its unique and bold design, “-but boy oh boy, am I glad he did. I don’t like witches, but I do like their toys,” he admires his blade before glancing back towards us patronisingly, “-want to see what it does?” he chuckles morbidly.

Lisa’s POV The witch raised the blade slowly, savoring my fear. Its surface shimmered unnaturally, dark like obsidian, but humming with something worse- wolfsbane. I knew that smell anywhere. Mixed with silver, it could cut deeper than just flesh. It could kill a wolf’s spirit. I gritted my teeth and prepared for pain, imagining the sword plunging into my chest, into my heart. But it didn’t. Instead, she placed it lightly on my shoulder.

But interspersed among them were the Emberfang artifacts Sin had retrieved from the lower levels—weapons created specifically to combat shadow manipulation and dark magic. I lifted one such weapon—a sword with a blade that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it, its hilt wrapped in leather inscribed with the same symbols that marked Ailith's skin. When I had first touched it yesterday, the weapon had vibrated in my hand, neither accepting nor rejecting me completely. Now, as I gripped it again, I felt a subtle warmth spreading from the hilt up my arm. "Interesting," Sin commented, appearing silently at my side in that unnerving way she had. "That blade is responding to you more strong

“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.

The golden blade cracked again. Rhydian clenched his teeth. "It's inside our heads." Kael closed his eyes. The voices were becoming unbearable. "You are alone. You always were. No one stays. Not even him." Kael's breathing became uneven. The memories of House Virel. The years of isolation. The belief that he was only a weapon. Everything came rushing back. The silver blade flickered. The creature smiled. "Yes... Doubt each other. Fear each other. The Twin Blades will become nothing."

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.