Strike The Blood English Dub Novels & Stories

She tells me spitting out the blood from her mouth “Your so welcome” I tell her chuckling “Please tell me it’s over” She says looking around, I groan sitting up and looking around, men were now walking around and killing any injured rogues that were still left alive. They stop at the big bastard

Roman pointed out. "Whatever! I still can't believe a sourdre de sang wouldn't know how the bar of the invisible works." "Bar?" Roman mocked. "A hotel. Hotel." Rose scrunched up her face. Roman pursed his lips. Reserving his words. "Whatever." Rose shrugged, "Say the words and stamp your foot twice." "That simple?" Roman asked. "Simply for pure bloods." Rose shrugged and went in ahead of him. With his shoulders all scrunched up, Roman muttered to himself, "What are the words again?"

I felt weak whenever I was with her. Weak and useless. My throat was parched, and my tongue felt dry. I muttered, "Thirsty. I am thirsty." Alex gave me a look then he mockingly laughed, his amusement evident, and he replied, "Sorry, darling, I can't hear you." I took deep breaths, gathering my strength. "I said I am thirsty." He looked at me with a twisted grin, saying, "Okay... so? You do know I won't give you anything until you accept my deal."

Vincent met Emma's gaze, but whatever tenderness he once had was long gone. His voice was ice. "Perfect timing. Prove to her there's nothing between us." Emma scoffed. "You drained her blood for me. Now you're throwing me away for her? Pathetic." Vincent didn't answer. Her eyes darkened. "If I can't have Vincent, neither can you. Die, you wretched woman!" Before I could react, she pulled out a knife.

Just the empty, rain-soaked street. She swallowed hard and whispered into the dark, her voice trembling. “What do you want from me?” Thunder rolled across the sky, deep and endless. And then, from somewhere far beyond the trees, faint, but just clear enough to make her blood run cold, came the sound of a wolf’s howl.

Villa Isabella, Sabine Mountains Dawn The silence in the library was so thick Elena could hear her own blood. Dante held his gun raised, but his hand trembled the first time Elena had ever seen it. Across from them, the two men smiled with the same smile, the same gray eyes, the same murderous blood coursing through their veins. "Put the gun down, little brother." The older brother, Matteo, the long-lost one, stepped forward, hands in his pockets, nonchalant. "We didn't come here to kill you. If that's what we wanted, you'd be dead already."

Before I could figure out what he was up to, he raised his hand and slammed it down on the right side of my neck. I suddenly couldn't see anything and lost consciousness. I must have forgotten to curse this man. Damn it. When I woke up, I found myself lying on a big, soft bed. The soft silk sheets smell like lavender. A delicate chandelier above my head gave off a faint yellow glow. I looked around, and everything in the room seemed so strange. I hope this time I am not dead again after the rebirth! I saw the silver-haired man sitting on the sofa. His face told me that this time I had just fainted.

Across the island, Isabella went still for two full seconds. Nonna Sveta turned around. Her gaze found Elena—not with grandmotherly warmth, but with the sharpened recognition of a woman who knew how to identify precision when she heard it. ✘ ✘ ✘ Nonna Sveta sent Elena to retrieve Blood Oranges from the lower compartment of the refrigerator. Elena transferred them to the wooden cutting board and split the first one open—one clean, assured press downward. No hesitation. The inside bled deep red. Its juice crept slowly across the grain of the board, far too dramatic for a winter fruit.

Every strike landed harder, and made serious damage, fueled by fury I didn’t know I had. He hit the ground, but I followed, straddling him, fists pummeling into him again and again. The sound of breaking bone, the wet choke of blood—none of it registered. All I saw was red. Somewhere, faintly, someone was shouting. My name, maybe or orders or pleas. It didn’t matter. Because another voice was louder. A low, damning voice that had crept into my mind. “Yes… just like that. Don’t stop. He’s the enemy. Make him bleed. Make him beg.”

I stood up as I walked to pick my sword only to receive a shovel from her boot again but this time at my backside. “What is that for?” I asked in anger as I picked myself off the ground at glared at her. “Lesson number one, never turn your back at an enemy, even when you think you are at ceasefire, even with a truce called. Never fully trust the enemy enough to turn your back at him.” Gwenn said I listened in silence. “Now pick up your sword.” I slowly picked up my sword, this time with my eyes kept firmly on Gwenn. As soon as the sword was in my hand, she strike at me and raised the sword to block her strike screaming. “You are in sane, you want to take off my head?”