Sword Stained With Royal Blood Novels & Stories

But it pulsed with power, with memory, with grief so old it felt like the earth itself. "The first wolf's blade," Lysander said. He had followed me inside, Theron leaning on him, Cassian behind. "She used it to cut the shadow from the king. She used it to bind it to her bloodline. This is the original. The Kingslayer was forged in its image." I walked to the pedestal. The sword called to me, the same way the crown called to me, the same way the shadow called to me—a pull in my chest, a whisper in my blood.

Kade leaned forward slightly, his full attention now hers. “One of these things alone is powerful,” she continued. Her voice lowered by a fraction. “But when the three stand together… they become unstoppable.” She lifted three slender fingers. “The first… cursed blood.” Kade’s eyes flickered. A faint tightening at the corner of his mouth betrayed recognition of its brutality. “The second… a witch of the royal bloodline of the Coven.” The air inside the carriage thinned. “The third… a royal bloodline of the Assassin Clan.” Her gaze sharpened.

Rowan’s silver knife flashed through the smoke and cut across Caleb’s arm as he reached for him. Blood fell onto the snow. The ground opened beneath Alexander. As he dropped into the dark, the shrine voice whispered from below, “The second debt accepts the king’s blood.”

He found it studded with blood; Vampire blood. “Fine. If he wants war… then I, FAUST BRAVER ROXFLOOD, will give him war.” The king announced looking at the sky freeing his shining sword from its metal scabbard. There was a thunderbolt in the day sky letting everyone know that a war was coming over them. Herbew quickly closed his books he had been reading and moved towards the king’s room, while Calista woke up from her sleep. Witnessing his father with his shining sword raised above his head towards the sky, Herbew didn’t bother to ask for permission and entered inside enquiring,

Mary hums, pulling my finger to Aurora’s lips, letting it brush over the lower bottom of her perfect mouth before making my finger drag a trail of blood on the inside of her lips, grazing her gums and teeth. “What is this doing?” I ask, confused and holding my whimpering wolf. “It’s the blood of a royal,” she says, as if I am supposed to know what that means. “With the blue moon out, you’re so much stronger, and that means you might be able to hone some healing qualities.”

She had hated me the last time I had done this, but I wasn’t going to let her die. Using my teeth to tear a chunk of flesh from my wrist, I hold it to her mouth, begging it too work. But my blood just seems to fill her mouth, trickling out the corner of her lips. Nothing happens, my blood flow comes to a stop as I heal but nothing changes in Tasha. Lucian had to be wrong, he had to be. She was a Royal now, she could only die with her head being removed from her spine.

Bardolph attacked Lobo, but bound warriors crashed between them, and the courtyard exploded into snarls before Conri’s command froze Northridge blades. “Stop!” I shouted, and my voice carried enough royal blood that even several Blackfang warriors stumbled beneath it. The servant’s blood crawled toward the crown like a thin red thread, and my sister watched it with horror and longing fighting across her face. Otsana threw silver dust across the thread, breaking it before the crown could drink fully, but the damage had already begun. “The crown tasted unwilling blood,” Otsana said, looking at me as if the night had just become shorter.

However, it didn't matter because until I was crowned, there would only be one official Royal Pack. One by one, the guards stepped forward, extending their forearms towards Perry. With a small, silver dagger, he made a shallow cut on their skin, allowing a few drops of their blood to fall onto a sacred cloth. It symbolised their willingness to shed blood for the Monarchy and their commitment to my safety and those of my heirs. As the guards completed the blood oath, they recited their solemn pledge, vowing to protect the pack and its leaders with their lives. The words echoed through the night, carrying the weight of their unwavering loyalty and dedication.

“It’s poetic, isn’t it? The same blade forged in the old war to end lineages. They say if you kill a royal with it… their line ends forever. No heirs. No bloodline to rise again.” She smiled at me. “Unless, of course… the heir dies first.” My scream tore from my throat. “DON’T—!” But the rogue stepped back, just an inch, closer to the edge. Shawn stirred slightly, letting out a soft whimper. That tiny sound shattered me. “I’ll do anything,” I begged, hands raised. “Please. Just don’t hurt him.” Ever watched me with eyes full of malice and triumph. The dagger gleamed under the moon.

Gian The Royal Palace, Kingdom of Howard He felt it burn in his skin, the screaming of their mother, the worry of their father, it all echoed in his thoughts as he tried his best to resist his younger brother, corrupted by foul magic apparently, pushing down on him, the cursed sword nearly breaking through the skin in his neck.