The Blade Itself Audiobook Novels & Stories

The guards burst in from the east side corridor before Viktor could even finish the sentence. He had pressed the knife into my hand himself and told me exactly where to cut. His forearm. Deep enough to bleed but not deep enough to harm. Then he stepped back, held the wound up, and waited for the door to open. I did what he instructed. I pulled the blade across his skin with my own hand, and I still did not know if that made me his weapon or his way out.

“Claudia will not stop until she makes me part of the weapon she forges. I cannot wait for her to strike. I must hold the truth myself.” Alexander looked at her for a long moment, then kissed her hand gently. “Then we will carry it together.” Outside, the wind rose, rattling the windows with the sound of branches clawing against glass. Evelyn stood at the balcony, looking over the city lights. Somewhere across the continent, Claudia Moreau was gathering fragments of the past and sharpening them into a blade. Evelyn whispered to herself, “Let her build it. We will be ready when she draws it.”

Okay, how dangerous is this Nora for Diane to warn me about her so intensely, well, I guess I will soon find out huh. “ You don't need to worry about me sister, I'm not a child, and I'm definitely not dying by the hand of a darkwood, I don't care if she is a knife, I am a Blade and I will not lose,” I said. “Ohh, really, well, it's nice to see you remember who you are.” “ I never forgot Diane, I am Blade and that won't ever change and as for Nora, I will handle her, so mind your business and also stop pissing off Sophie,” I said.

Crystal asked frantically, she had a strong feeling that what she was thinking was right, but she just couldn't bear to hear it yet. “Yes,” Blade spoke up without hesitation. “It is the same night when they burned down our house while both of my parents were resting in their bedroom. When I regained consciousness, I saw a woman wearing a white broad beach hat, a white dress, white pearls, and mittens. She ordered one of her people to kill me.” “Wait, that style... It’s similar to-”

A sharp breath left me. "The Godfather approaches." A ripple of movement. Chairs scraped back. Every single man in the hall stood in unison. They began chanting. “Honor to the blade. Death to the weak. Honor to the blade. Death to the weak.” I shot up from my chair, pulse thudding. The hall trembled with their voices as the doors at the far end opened. Mr. Blade entered, flanked by men in black suits, walking with the kind of presence that sucked the air from the room. His gaze was stone. Cold. Unreadable.

The Hollow Blade waited for her there. It was no weapon forged by men, nor a simple vision birthed from fear. It was something etched into the marrow of her existence. A spectral blade with jagged, shifting edges, its body wreathed in whispers that cut deeper than steel. The voice it carried wasn’t one voice, it was many, layered, distorted, yet unified in cruelty. "You think you can wear the crown of Luna? You think your blood is strength, hybrid?" the Blade hissed, circling her in the void-space.

“You are not alone this time. I’m with you. The hybrids are with you. We will be your strength. Didn’t I tell you before? I will pull you back, love. I will change your fate. But for that to happen, you need to trust me. Do you trust me?” Blade was breaking inside. When I touched him, I heard the voices, too. I fought back the tears. Is this what he hears every single time? How could he survive such torture? Anyone would have gone mad by the number of voices, of the whispering, and of the curses I hear. I took a sharp breath. His whole body was burning. His veins were bulging. And when he held my hands, it hurt but I stood my ground. My pain was nothing compared to his.

I chipped in the update. “Two idiot friends always amalgamating the most stupid ideas” “So what do you think of it?” I was immune to her insults already. Anyone that still gets offended by it is yet to understand that harshness was Hilra’s mother tongue. She thought for a moment and turned to the door when it sounded like someone was walking past. “According to Anthonier, the blade is still with her?” “Yes. I believe it is safest in her room. No one would believe I’d leave a blade that could end me in the hands of a mistress who had barely stayed a full week”

The earlier talk… the yelling… it was too much. Everything blurred at the edges, like the world was dissolving in slow motion, "Just leave, okay? I don't want anything from any of you. Not anymore. I just want to live and breathe without feeling like my next breathe needs to stolen, given or sacrificed for you people." My legs wobbled, then buckled—and just before I hit the ground, something solid caught me. Not the cold floor. Not the itchy carpet. Someone. “Aanya?” a voice called, distant but familiar.