The Blood Traitor Novels & Stories

“I will continue to play my part.” “We will work tirelessly. None of the families approve of this.” She didn’t say it, but I knew she meant the Kents, Connors, and hers. Mr. Kent was our Beta, Mr. Connors was his Second, and Mr. Drake was the pack’s unknown Assassin. Though I have no doubt, my father personally ended my mother’s life. Patrick Drake was cold to the outside world, but he was a loving father and husband who always wore a smile in private. “I don’t think father knows what exactly he’s done.”

"It is nothing big, honest. i just need one, maybe two, vials of your blood." "What?" Arisa yelled shocked. I couldn't contain my anger. I involuntarily phased into my demon form, albeit just the first stage. "You want me to bargain with my blood?! You know that is the one thing, other than Liz, that I can't give!" "No, not your blood, HER blood." Veronica pointed over to Arisa who looked pale. "What?" I asked shocked. Arron was also rather confused as he looked on and Liz was behind me, clutching the fabric of my pants into her little hands.

She could see it, staining the surrounding greenery. There were fragments of uniforms scattered and Gwen was sure that in the mix of all that, were some body parts as well. Like Gwen had guessed, the person was completely aware of their presence and lured them into a trap. They were a suicide bomber. And they killed themselves and six of their soldiers. And one of them was someone she was familiar with. Gwen was shocked still and could not move, although she wanted to look away from the grotesque scene, she could not force her body to. It was too hard. She could hear her partner behind her but she did not focus on them.

Her father. Cameron Allistar White had been a soldier in the American Civil War when he was mortally wounded and left for dead. A nomadic vampire, searching for an easy meal, had begun to drain him—only to be interrupted by a clean-up crew retrieving fallen soldiers. The vampire fled before he could finish, leaving behind a man who was neither dead nor fully human. His heart still beating when the venom flooded his veins.

I asked again with a frown in case I didn't hear him correctly and he nodded. “Your blood, Alpha. It might be the only thing strong enough to help her recover.” My blood!! No, no. Not my blood. My blood was off the chart. The memories came rushing back as I stood frozen to the ground. The plague. The war I had fought within myself for years. The darkness that ran in my veins, the thing I had worked so hard to suppress. My blood was not normal. It was dangerous and forbidden. I was the only one meant to have such blood, not Irene.

one said. “New York is not our tradition,” another added. My jaw clenched. “I can rule from anywhere, I don't need a location stamp to lead. You don’t get to give me orders.” “You killed your blood, all because of an Italian. That is unforgivable.” My hands clenched into fists. “That Italian is my wife and that blood you speak of betrayed me. Do we accept traitors now?” They looked amongst themselves, realizing they had no argument to that.

He wore a white shirt and black trousers which were stained with blood. I arched my brow at him. "What's wrong, Carlo?" His chest rose as he panted softly. He must have beaten the bloody hell out of someone. "Come to the basement. We have caught a traitor." He raised his blood-stained hands and brushed his hair backward before he left.

“I have nothing to prove to you. If you insist on calling me a traitor, then so be it. The only thing I'll say to that is that there are times where your destiny is far different than what people think it's going to be.” “So you're saying your destiny is in Moongrowl?” His question was held up by sarcasm. “That you're destined to be branded as a traitor to your psck? I shrugged. He scoffed. “So what are you doing here now?” “Bloodbath has a new leader. You. How was this decision made?” “The same method that ensured you got to sit with me this afternoon. A test was created, and I won. Fair and square.” “Just like that?”

she says at last. I arch a brow. The kind of brow that says: Spare me the tragic backstory. I’m not going to sit here and play therapist to a mother who wants to wax poetic about her bloodstained son like he’s just some troubled little boy. She smiles faintly, amused by my lack of pretense. “Well,” she says, “you’re clever. And still, here you are. Trapped in a world you didn’t choose. That’s the thing about blood… it knows how to find its way back. We don’t outrun what’s bred into our marrow. Not really.”

A schoolgirl who couldn't even reach my height even after standing on tiptoes, let alone reach my stamina and way of handling traitors. I looked at Igor who was still standing and I saw a damped portion on his shirt. The hit wasn't light, the glass material typically injured him, causing a certain amount of bleeding. "You know what, Igor. Look what did the girl cause you. Blood. Do you understand what sort of a traitor we have in our captive? Betrayal runs in her blood. Like father, like daughter." I put extra pressure on the last phase reminding him something of Iris's father's wrongdoings that could never be accepted in our world.