Novel & Cerita The Blade Itself Graphic Novel

If it blows, he takes the first structural kick. Again. Always. Another man making himself the price. The Phantom Blade is still in the cable housing. I rip it free with a jerk of the wire and turn the blade toward the final lead instead of Renn. The countdown hits 00:19. Damian looks at me. For once, he does not tell me no. I cut. The fuse dies. For half a second, nothing happens. Then the water below the gallery rises in a black sheet. It comes up wrong, not splashing, not foaming, lifting like an elevator full of night.

I forced myself to say. "It doesn't matter, Reis. As a matter of fact, she's on my side now, and she's going to help me execute my plan. And there's nothing you can do about it." He smirked and leaned back in his chair before snapping his fingers. Some men approached with a tray. Resting on it was a blade emitting a glowing green light. "Let me introduce you to the Blade of Poison," Cillian began. "I'm sure you can sense the lethal energy radiating from this blade. We've spent years designing it to kill usurpers like yourself."

He was always so pleased by her speed and ruthlessness in dispatching his elder children, that he doted on her during class. She was unrivaled in hand-to-hand, quicker and more sure-footed than her siblings. She was deadly with small blades as well, and kept one tucked in her boot at all times, just in case any of Killian's cronies took the young Lord at his word and tried to have her quietly dispatched. Not that she ever represented a true threat to either Killian or Reena, she was just as much her mother's daughter as her father's, and it was likely she would be a prey shifter rather than a predator.

A mixture of relief and sorrow flooded through me as I realised that it was over, that Blade had won. The cost was evident in the bloodied and battered form of Blade, his sides heaving as he caught his breath. But he had done it – he had fought for me, for us, and emerged victorious. Kane promised me once that if Jake ever returned he would protect me and stop him from taking me. He had kept that promise.

I could feel the pair of eyes boring holes into my sides as I moved forward, all too aware of every step, every shift in the room. “Let’s see.” She said as I handed over my sketched work. No time to think or prepare. Dr. Hale took the sketchbook, flipping it open with the same calm precision she did with everything else. Then, she placed it onto the project and it became visible to everyone in the room. The silence was deafening and uncomfortable because I knew what they were looking at. Ernest. I had drawn him, yes. But not…Not in the way people usually drew someone. I hadn’t focused on his face.

“I’m dead serious. I’ve done all the research I can in this world and i;ve never been more certain about a thing in my life than this. Blade is a werewolf and I'm his mate. They can have human mates too.” Not only was it amusing that she knew Blade was a werewolf, it shocked me ten times more to know that she was Blade’s mate. It sent a wave of relief to know that Blade's fate was starting to come into view and he could finally see the truth and forget me. However, it didn’t stop the way my heart raced at the thought of her finding out.

"I won't let go." Rhydian smiled through the blood on his lips. "You never have to." The Twin Blades merged into one brilliant white sword. Its light pierced the heavens. The King of the Void looked at the weapon. For the first time... It took a single step backward. "You forged..." Its voice carried something unfamiliar. "...the Blade of Beginning." The Creator smiled. "No. They did." The white blade released a pulse of light that spread across the collapsing world. Dead trees bloomed. Broken stone became green with life. The frightened Gatekeepers felt hope returning to their hearts. Even the widening crack in the sky stopped growing.

Blade forgot the deer. He turned and stalked toward the new thing. The weak, wounded thing that smelled of enemy. The rage had a new target. He loomed over her, a giant of shadow and fangs. The girl looked up, her face pale with pain and terror. She didn’t scream. She just whimpered again, her voice a broken thread. “P-please… don’t… help me…” *Kill her, * Blade’s thought was a dark pulse. *She smells of them. Kill her and howl our pain to the moon.*

The blade itself was crafted from what looked like obsidian, a material that seemed to absorb the light around it. As I stared at the weapon, I couldn't help but marvel at its artistry. The blade was adorned with symbols that I didn't recognize, a language of magic that spoke to something primal deep within me. The hilt, too, was a thing of wonder, decorated with delicate carvings of wolves that snarled and bared their teeth with a savage grace.

“Keep lying to yourself.” I hum, reaching into my coat pocket. My fingers close around the blade I always carry. “And that's the reason you kidnapped him from his home?” I pull the blade out, staring at the sharp edges. “I'm giving you one last chance before I pull your goddamned insides out.” His breath catches. The color drains from his face when I swipe the blade in the air. It's not the kind of blade that cuts, it peels. It's thin, sharp, surgical. Thinking about the amazing things I'll do with this blade makes my lips curl into a small smile.