Supernatural First Blade Novels & Stories

I moved along the shadows, noting footprints, signs of recent activity, and subtle marks that might indicate other supernatural beings had passed this way. A sound caught my attention—a soft scuffing, a whisper of movement. I froze, knife in hand, eyes scanning the darkness. Two figures emerged, cautious, wary. They weren’t human, not completely. Their eyes glinted faintly in the dim light, and I realized they were supernatural in some form—likely allies, though impossible to know for sure yet. I stepped forward, voice low but steady. “I’m alone. I’m… not here to fight, unless I have to.”

"You didn't just love me, Jinyan. You used me to stay alive. Every time we touched, every time I felt that rush of connection... I wasn't just giving you my heart. I was giving you my life." He let out a jagged, wet breath. "I wanted to tell you... I tried to find another way. But the Father... he designed me to need you. I am Blade, Panni. And a blade has no light of its own. It only reflects what is poured into it." I felt the resonance in my blood begin to scream. It was a physical pressure behind my eyes, a heat in my palms that felt like molten lead. I was the Battery. My very existence was a power source, a reservoir of light that the Firm had spent fifteen years perfecting.

It took Blade minutes to recover and his wounds to heal, his gaze turned black, his fangs elongating and his real self revealing “I'll show you what it means to play with me," Blade dangerous voice echoed " You look like a deprived plaything, did you eat well in your form,” Felix's sarcastic voice rolled out staring down at Blade's vampire's form Before Blade could approach Felix, Adam appeared in-between them, putting the fight to the end. Blade's first instinct was to run when he noticed Adam, but before he could put it into action, Adam caught him and without a second thought he tore Blade into two like it was normal and morally or mentally okay.

It looked dangerous… sacred… and strangely familiar. “The Blade of Tenebris,” I murmured, recalling the words I’d once tried so hard to forget. “It cuts not flesh, but spirit. A single strike leaves enemies hollow, their will severed. It was quenched in the Void during the First Apex War. Every wielder leaves behind a fragment of their soul.”

Blade stared at her in shock, how did she found out about this. "How did found out about this?" Blade asked, watching as she folded a paper and threw it in the waste bin. Slowly she strode towards him, quietly sitting down on the bed, Blade being the touchy type, drew her waist closer to her. "I saw the vision, didn't I inform you in the party, I found my super hybrid powers, I see people's flash backs and past lives just by touching their hands. I tried doing that on Lucas but he kissed me instead. So as I was saying, I saw her past and everything about her pregnancy when I touched her. I saw when she told Ronald to leave the pack because she could not have him as his mate and she could onl

Behind it lay the Lunaris Blade—a weapon forged by the first Moon Blessed, imbued with the essence of starlight and sorrow. Selene had never touched it. Until now. She whispered the incantation, voice steady. The runes flared to life. The door groaned open. And the chamber beyond seemed to hold its breath. There, atop a stone pedestal, lay the blade—its hilt wrapped in lunar silk, its edge gleaming faintly as if lit from within. The moment her fingers closed around it, a wave of energy surged up her arm—pain and clarity in equal measure. Visions danced behind her eyes: fire, fangs, Lucian’s smile twisted in triumph… and a throne of bone rising from ash.

The First Father stepped forward. “Then it cannot have you.” The eye turned toward him. The First Father froze. A voice entered his mind. “You are not the one who decides.” The First Father gritted his teeth. He raised his weapon. “I decide for myself.” He attacked. His weapon crossed the distance between universes. For one moment— it seemed to reach the golden eye. Then it stopped. The blade shattered. The First Father stared at his empty hand. The Creator whispered: “Don't.” Too late.

"If you want to survive the night, stop fighting the Key. The Well will only kill you faster. If the Syndicate comes, I want you to burn them all to ash." He exits without looking back, the magnetic seal hissing shut behind him. I collapse against the side of the crib, my hands shaking so hard I have to grip the railing to stay upright. The wood groans under my touch. I look down at my palms. A faint, ghostly silver light is already beginning to leak back through my pores. The suppression is over. The Five-Second Fade has reached its limit. I reach into the bedpost and pull the Phantom Blade free. The titanium needle is cold, but as soon as my fingers touch it, the metal begins to hum, the s

Then I scramble for the dagger. In a swift motion, I slice the blade across my palm. "Stop!" I hold out my bloody hand, the dagger in the other. With Kiarr helping me, I feel invincible. Like a Viking warrior ready to battle alongside her mate. Mate? Where the hell did that thought come from? The zombie sways on his feet, shaking his head. He runs at me like he's going to go through me. Or maybe he can see Kiarr's spirit armour on me and thinks to knock it off?

He let go of the revolver and left the rest to fate. Muhammad was gradually drifting into unconsciousness but he saw the blurry image of Nicole kneeling over him with a bloody knife in her hand and her demonic eyes appears to be filled with rage. Nicole brought up the knife ready to stab him and Muhammad realized it was almost over so he said a quiet prayer and waited for the impact of the sharp steel of the knife against his body.