The Blood Legacy Novels & Stories

I knew the numbers by heart, even if I pretended they didn’t exist. Seventy percent. Charles Montgomery. Annabelle’s grandfather. It was his. All of it. Every brick, every cent, every ounce of power I’d killed myself to hold on to—it was never mine. My father hadn’t been a visionary. He’d been a thief in a suit, carving his fortune out of someone else’s flesh. And now, I was his son, the inheritor of bloodstained spoils. If Annabelle ever knew—if she even touched those papers—everything would collapse.

"The essence of life fading. Blood so sweet, so warm. This is what keeps me alive... but you, you are nothing more than nourishment to me." The witch lifted her head, her smile widening into something grotesque. I couldn't stop myself from flinching, feeling the blood drain from my face as the reality of her words sank in. She was toying with us, savoring every moment of our pain. Just when I thought I couldn’t bear it any longer, I heard a faint, muffled noise. It was almost inaudible, like a whisper carried by the wind. My heart skipped a beat as I strained to listen, praying it was something — someone — coming to save us.

she said, her voice catching slightly. "That's a good start. From here, we can face whatever comes. No matter what, Noah is your son," Alice replied. "But you love Noah so much, too. The fact that we're here now is because of your sacrifices as well," Elena countered. Alice nodded and smiled. "The thing that haunted us is gone. We made it through everything. And remember one thing. Blood is thicker than water. Even though Noah is desperately rejecting Evan, in his heart of hearts, he must already accept that he is his flesh and blood."

"Let De Luca go. This is between us." "Between us?" Alessandro laughed, a dry, joyless laugh. "Everything is between us. It always was. Ever since we were born, ever since they locked me up, ever since I lived the life that should have been mine in a cell." "Elena, it wasn't our fault. We weren't even born yet."But they carry his blood. His name. His heritage. Alessandro pointed them out one by one. You, Dante, the heir. You, Enzo, the avenger. You, Antonio, the forgotten one. You, Andrea, are the wanted one. And you, Marco and Luca, are the accomplices. All tainted. All guilty.

"If we start executing the very community we’re trying to salvage, then the Heiress has already won. She has turned us into her own cleanup crew, killing the human elements for her." Maya turned to Elias. The monk was leaning heavily on his iron staff with his face ashen from the effort of holding the mountain's resonance. "Elias, the Legacy Bank. There was a passage on 'Sanguine Architecture.' My mother wrote about the blood's capacity for encryption. What was the logic behind it?"

he says. "I know," I say. He hands the knife back to me, handle first. "Keep it," he says. "Next time, aim for the throat." Outside, the moon is rising—two days from full, heavy and pregnant with light. But in the portrait room, surrounded by the faces of women who had not been allowed to choose, I feel something shift. The bloodline is not a curse, I realize. It is a question. And for the first time, I am ready to answer it on my own terms.

“I am Laurent Ford, the Alpha King and Jennie’s grandfather. “Twenty-two years ago, my daughter kept her royal blood a secret and mated with you. Now, I’m taking my granddaughter, Jennie, home.” Dread washed over Gale. “No, Alpha Ford. This has to be a mistake. Jennie has never shifted. She can’t even beat an Omega. Thanks to the Bates’ standing in the pack, Joey looked past her flaw and mated with her.” Even at this point, Gale refused to believe that I carried the Alpha King’s blood in me. I scoffed, my voice dripping with disdain, “Oh, I forgot to mention that I have shifted today. Like Mom, I am a white wolf. The moonstone is the Moon Goddess’ gift to white wolves. Please return the ston

In his ear, Evelyn’s voice rose — faint, distant, but real: “Lucien… blood is not a chain. It is memory. When the world forgets love, remember… I chose to stay, for you.” He closed his eyes. A drop of blood fell from his hand, becoming red light. For a moment, Valenfort seemed to hold its breath. Lucien spread his wings and launched into the night, leaving behind the blazing tower — the last symbol of the old world. From here, the Age of Blood began. An era where love, sin, and destiny merged — and where the Blood King began his journey to reclaim the lost soul, through endless blood and darkness.

"You'll never touch her again." A soft laugh echoed. "Oh, Dominic." The voice turned colder. "You still believe this is about love." Scarlett's fists clenched. "Then what is it about?" Silence. Then "Legacy." The word echoed like ice. "My legacy. Your mother's failure. And the bloodline that must continue." Scarlett's stomach turned. No. She was not some inheritance. Not some experiment. The countdown dropped again. 02:02 Her father looked at the central server. "We need the master drive."

"The information she had, what she found and what she was about to expose, died with her. Officially." The room is very still. "Officially," Dante repeats. "A Blood Heir's abilities include memory access from the recently deceased," Sage says. "But they can also access memory impressions carried in objects, in locations, and in people who were present at significant events." She pauses again. "You were there, Dante. You witnessed your mother's death. You were ten years old and you saw it, and that memory has been inside you for seventeen years." She says it with complete gentleness and complete directness simultaneously. "A Blood Heir accessing it could recover what your mother knew. What sh