The Bloody Baron Harry Potter Novels & Stories

We push against the darkness, reclaiming our territory and standing against the North pack's tyranny. As the battle rages on, I can feel the energy of our allies surging around us, bolstering our efforts. The North pack warriors falter, their confidence shaken as they realize the strength of our magic. With every enemy we crush, I can feel the tide turning in our favor. The Black Faes retreat, their dark forms flickering as they try to escape the light. But just as we seem to have the upper hand, Betty hands over a maleficent potion to Harry who drinks it promptly and disappears for a moment. A chilling howl then cuts through the chaos, freezing us in our tracks.

My skin tingled with excitement at the thought of Harry's hands roaming over my curves, stripping away the flimsy lace. Reaching the seventh floor corridor, I paused outside the Room of Requirement, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves. Then, with a trembling hand, I knocked three times. The door swung open and there he stood - Harry Potter himself, glasses glinting in the candlelight. His black hair was messier than usual, like he'd run his fingers through it a hundred times. The white shirt hugged his lean chest and his dark jeans clung to his hips. He was gorgeous.

"Get comfortable first, then we talk about your escape plan." I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could speak, Harry had disappeared into the crowd. I felt slightly out of place but found an empty stool and took a seat, my eyes scanning the crowd as I tried to adjust to the bar’s wild atmosphere. A few moments later, Harry returned, two glasses in hand, one a deep blue color. He handed me one and took the other for himself. "Here, tonic for the nerves," he said with a smile, but I shook my head.

The ancient bloodline of the Imperial Thorne family. Seraphina hadn't just matched her with a monster. She had accidentally or perhaps intentionally sent her into the cage of a Prince. Valerius Thorne. The Arch-Commander of the Imperial Army. The man the news had reported missing for three days. The Prince turned. His eyes were not human. They glowed like violent fire, his pupils thin and sharp like a predator’s. A low growl vibrates from him, it was so powerful it made the ground tremble under Lyra’s feet.

"This is going to be interesting." He turned and walked toward the door. But at the threshold, he stopped and looked back at me over his shoulder. "The Blood Call was just the beginning," he said. "Tomorrow, the real test begins. I hope you survive it, half-blood. For your sake." The door closed behind him. I stood there, shaking, my chest still wet with my own blood, and I realized something that terrified me more than the Council, more than the relic, more than anything else. The wolf inside me wasn't afraid of Niklas Vollbrecht.

I had never come in contact with a 20-year-old woman like Lucinda. She truly felt softer than the fluff of cotton candy. To my even greater surprise, she actually took my hand and placed it right on her chest. Instantly, I could feel her suppleness and tenderness right against my palm. I also felt a hard peak. I couldn't believe that she was actually braless! I pulled my hand back in fright, then whispered in her ear, "You must be mad. I'm close friends with your father." At this moment, Lucinda was blushing, her expression full of unmet desire as she pleaded, "I get this… itch whenever I drink. Just scratch this itch for me, will you, Mr. Glover? Just shield me with your body so my dad does

His throat tore with a roar-half wolf, half man-forcing himself back, ripping himself away from the strike. The mist screamed. The ground shook as if Hollow Six itself despised his refusal. But Baron didn't bend. He hurled the blade down into the stone floor, sparks flaring. His burning eyes fixed on the shivering girl, not as prey, but as something untouchable. "Not her," he growled, voice ragged. "Never her." The fog trembled, twisting into shrieking faces, fury made sound. The Hollow had demanded submission, and Baron had spat in its face.

She forgot a lot of the families do not do human things and most have servants that attend to them. "You mean my caddy that has all of my makeup, jewelry, hair dryer and curler." Maddie scratched the top of her head in confusion. Majority of the things she just said totally blew her friends mind. Before she could say anything a knock was sounded and Maddie's grandfather Lord Alessandro who was the head of her family's bloodline popped his head around. He had long black hair that went to the middle of his back, he had beautiful silver eyes tinted with the blood thirst power.

When she walked in to the loving area, the first thing her mind registered was the pungent scent of rusted metal—no—blood. There he was in the middle of it. He was unbuttoning his stained dress shirt with a cold but calm demeanor. His expression was blank and he looked like a demon ascended straight from hell. His black leather shoes were sole deep in the pool of blood that that at his feet. Rain stopped in her tracks and a scream lodged in her throat. Alexander took the shirt off and handed it over to Enzo who stood right next to him. Enzo’s expression mirrored Alexander’s . They both peered down at the scene in front of them, one Rain knew Alexander had created.