Novel & Cerita The Blood Trials

I can't stop asking her. I know Shantelle's Grandma said something about my blood but I still don't fully understand. My brain couldn't even absorb what she was saying. "I think it's about your blood?" She said, I questioningly. "I don't know! I don't have a clue either. Let's just follow Grandma because what she said seems serious," she added. I just nodded. I don't know why that old woman is so serious. I still can't get over the bleeding in one of her eyes as if it was dangerous for a creature to see my life. "Let's go,"

I swallowed hard, my pulse quickening, the man gestured for me to sit on a sleek chair near the center of the room, my legs felt like lead as I moved toward it, my entire body screamed at me to run, but curiosity, fear, and desperation anchored me in place. As I sat, Raymond loomed nearby, his eyes locked on me, unyielding and unreadable, his presence was suffocating, yet a strange comfort pulsed beneath it. I hated myself for drawing strength from him even in a place like this. The scientist approached with a tray. “This won’t hurt. Just a sample of blood.” I nodded, my throat dry, when the needle pricked my arm, I flinched but refused to look away, the crimson liquid filled the vial, darke

she informed Beta Aaron, who respectfully nodded in understanding. "Prepare the ceremonial bowl," he ordered two guards. They were quick to carry over a golden bowl, setting it down in front of us. Luna Selene stepped forward, lighting a match and throwing it into the bowl. Violent flames surged from the bowl. Beta Aaron handed each of us a blade. "A drop of blood into the ceremonial bowl. If the fire turns black, you will be disqualified from participating in the Trials," he explained, keeping his hands behind his back. The she-wolves formed a line, stepping up to the ceremonial bowl.

She straightened herself and faced Silas, who immediately adjusted his glasses and hurried over. "I got last week’s results," he said, handing her a file. Last week, they had given several patients the drug infused with Selina’s blood. "Here. This graph shows the patients with weaker conditions," Silas explained, pointing at the data. Selina and Raven examined it closely. The results were good. Better than expected. The weak patients showed strong improvement after taking the blood-based formula, far better than those who received the standard version. It was clear evidence that Selina’s blood worked.

I slide my new ID card through the scanner—Nyra gave it to me personally, smiling like we’re still best friends. She trusts too easily. That had always been her weakness. Idiot. The door clicked open. Inside, the hum of the lab refrigerator filled the silence. I head straight to the work station labelled: HEAMATODIPSIA – PRIMARY TRIALS. I scanned through the vials until my eyes land on one labeled Sample ||238- mutation progression. I put on a pair of gloves and pull it out, spinning it in the light. Watching the dark colored blood swirl. Without this, their cure stalls.

I say. "For what she expended." Maret chooses her words carefully. Sets them down like objects she is placing on a surface she isn't sure will hold them. "What she carries, what was revealed tonight, it isn't something we have a reference for. Not in living memory. The Moonblood hasn't manifested fully in generations." She pauses. "She used a significant portion of it in a very short time. The shift. The fight. And then what she did for you." She says that last part without inflection.

"You hate him, too?" "Everybody hates Dale." Good. "... The council has fixed a date for the annual blood trials." Dale says. "Your performance will form 30% of the session grades, plus a chance to fight in a real battle." I glance at Miles. "What's a blood trial?" "A very deadly competition where students prove their worth through combat and blood puzzle." He sighs and stares ahead. It's may also be a trap to trigger your dormant powers." "Isn't that a good thing?" I ask.

Leonard, meanwhile, sat at the head of the table with the men, his voice calm but commanding, like he was orchestrating a symphony only he could hear. Dinner began. Conversation buzzed. I tried to steady my hands as I lifted my glass, pretending the crystal didn’t tremble against my fingers. And then it happened. The wine slipped before I even realized it—scarlet liquid blooming like blood across the lap of Bianca Moretti, the wife of the rival boss himself. The hall stilled. Forks paused mid-air. “Oh God….” I reached for a napkin, mortified, but Bianca caught my wrist before I could dab at the spreading stain.

"How? Do you mean Zach Howe? That useless trust fund brat? Has Ethan completely lost his mind? Has Tara eaten away at his brain? Associating with someone like him? Haha! Well, it won't be long before Ethan's name disappears from society entirely." Zach was not just a spoiled rich kid. He was dangerous and had blood on his hands. Ethan playing in his territory would leave nothing but scraps of bone behind. "Aren't you even a little curious why he's doing this?" "I'm not curious. His business isn't mine. Alright, I've got things to do. Hanging up now."

I was so happy to see him alive… But the blood! It triggered a memory I’d long since forgotten... “You truly are a fool,” Ryan snarled, grinning from ear to ear, while flexing his fingers so he drew blood. “Renounce the throne, Rain! NOW!!!” Blood! So much blood… I was tiptoeing down the corridor, following my mother and the man who drove her here. Dead wolves were lying everywhere, some still trying to fight for their lives. I wanted to stop and help, but my mother’s voice drew me away…