The Blood Of Vargr Novels & Stories

The thick, dark primordial blood of a century-old vampire welled from the deep cut. "Drink, Brynn," Riheirk commanded, his voice raw and desperate as he pressed his bleeding wrist firmly against her lips. "Drink from me. Let my blood purge the poison. Accept it, sweetheart, please." Brynn’s jade eyes flickered. Driven by her own fading strength and the desperate, triumphant internal screaming of Solar, her jaw parted. She bit down lightly on his wrist, her lips drawing the heavy, white-hot furnace of his primordial blood into her system.

She landed on her stomach, her fingers clawing at the frozen mud as she forced her eyes to focus through the swelling flesh. Across the clearing, Varga had dropped to one knee, his left hand clutched tightly around the wound in his thigh. Hot, dark arterial blood was pouring through his silver fingers, steaming violently as it hit the freezing mountain air and melting a deep, black hole into the snow drift. His face was no longer that of a warrior; it was a distorted mask of primal, animalistic panic. He could feel the cold, heavy hand of blood loss pulling at his alpha strength.

She grabbed it, and the water poured down with a loud gush. “It’s done!” she exclaimed in a whisper. She pressed her hand over the slice on her wrist to stop the blood. Goose bumps lined her skin. She had the Divinity Elixir in her hand. She looked at Vargauz with excitement in her eyes. Then she looked in the goblet. It was half-filled with dark blood that sparkled in darkness. Her eyes flashed with surprise. With blood all over her hands, she handed the goblet to Vargauz.

I heard a crackling sound of broken glass, then my nose wrinkled as I smelled the delicious scent of blood dripping on the floor. “Elizabeth!” My father ran towards her, but something possessed me. Before my father was able to reach my unconscious mother, I ran towards her in a swift movement and sank my teeth into her bloody hand. My enraged father grabbed my shoulders and attempted to pull me away from my mother's already limp body, but the beast in me would not concede. I ferociously shoved him and continued on drinking my mother's blood to the last drop.

And with his dead mate in his arms, Kristion walked away and was never seen again while evil left the world and humans lived freely but decided to live in hiding from the supernatural world. Now, 10,000 years had passed and the evil in man's heart was at a limit till it reached its fullest once again and this time, it would take more than an arrow to stop it, especially when followers of Addanc wishes to bring back his soul and the only way of achieving that is filling the bowl with blessed wolf's blood. Your Blood, Gwen as you are the reincarnation of Isolde. I wasn't so sure till Oswald reacted to your blood. Which is why you are not supposed to be among us, it gives those people hope that

Offia whispered and Nwife opened his eyes widely. "Why did he give them a cut with the sword before burying them alive?" Nwife asked. "They said he was able to control their Spirit once their blood touches the enchanted sword. Normally, anyone who dies through such barbaric means would seek revenge, but once their blood is on the sword, they would be his slave forever and would do whatever he asks them to do. They kill whoever he sends them to kill," Offia explained and fear gripped Nwife. "He so wicked and the gods must punish him."

"The people that was with this man is now unconscious. I puffed some sleeping powder onto the air without them noticing. We must throw this corpse far away from here" I felt a numbing pain in my head so the grasp of my hand within the bloody dagger that I used had loosen and made it's way on the floor with a clank. Mother immediately supported my body while looking at my appearance gently. "Y-yve, your hair and eyes is changing again. Lady Molly what is happening?!"

I can see the shadow of black hair under her skin poking through and her finger nails elongating into claws. "DIANA ITS ME, WAKE UP!" it doesn't matter how loud I scream or shout she can't hear me. She reaches down with her clawed hand and grabs me round the throat squeezing hard enough to draw blood. "Di....an.....a" I choke out grabbing her hand with my free one. She glares vacantly into my eyes for a long moment and then swivels her head back to the door like it's the only thing that matters, releasing my neck.

Suck his blood? He could feel his pulse racing when he felt her breathe on his neck. He tried to move and resist, but her hands were on his nape and shoulder to keep him in place. He wanted to at least fight for his life but the damn rope in his wrists and ankles were too tight for him to free himself. “Your blood smells so good to me, you know that?” she asked in her bedroom voice. Lanver cursed himself at the back of his mind. He was in the middle of life and death situation, yet here he was, noticing how his predator’s voice sounded so good. He must be insane. Or maybe he was under her hypnosis so he couldn’t resist?

I asked, and he nodded. “It says… Vargr- the Monarchs of the South, remain the only ones to have no looming curse over them. They have no beastly nature, unless cursed by a powerful witch, and also allowed by the person to be cursed.” I read, and it made my head hurt even reading it. “The blood of the Vargr is always predominant, and hereby breaking a beastly curse on anyone with Vargr blood might prove difficult.” Zion looked at me with narrowed eyes. He was definitely trying to process what I had just read, but we were both having no luck.