The Bloody Gate Novels & Stories

They got to the front of the double doors of the palace. I watched as Ophelia floated in the air, graciously. Then she folds her hand, murmuring something under her breath. The floor started shaking furiously, and I tried my best to stand straight with my bleeding feet. The big, impenetrable gate started shaking softly, but it got violent and suddenly we all heard a loud boom as the gate blew up in different directions. I covered my face from the dust and pieces of wood flying around. When everything reduced, I opened my eyes, and the warriors stood in front of the gate with their weapons out. Ophelia flew down, and she looked at me and Alma.

It wants everything we have left to give. Kael reaches the threshold first. He doesn’t hesitate as he draws his blade across his palm in one vicious motion, blood spilling thick and black onto the ground. The blood that falls from him doesn’t drip. It hits the ground in heavy drops, too dense, too dark — like it remembers dying once and never forgave the world for letting it happen. The bones shudder, and the runes twitch. The seam down the center of the gate flexes wider. The prisoner hobbles forward, cursing under his breath, and slams his bleeding hand against the lowest rib.

The predominant colors of the hallway were gold, tan, and white from the tiles creating an interesting contrast with the picture I had of the house in my head. We got to the end of the hallway and the huge doors were opened by my guards whom I had refused to acknowledge since the beginning of this tour. I was stunned by the elegance of the dining room that I had just set my eyes on. Before I knew it, my thoughts wandered to my children. Trevor would have loved this tour, He loves exploring new places. Before I could control my emotions, I felt my chest burn in anger and resentment towards this situation and that creepy guy who kidnapped me. I shook my head to get rid of the fiery emotions, c

We covered it in six minutes. The gates were reinforced steel, guarded by men with thermal scopes and silver-tipped rounds. They didn't even have time to check their monitors. I hit the gate at forty miles an hour, the metal screeching as it tore off its hinges. Caleb was a blur of violence beside me, his hands finding throats and limbs before the guards could even chamber a round. It wasn't a fight. It was a harvest. We reached the main house. The oak doors were locked. I didn't knock. I put my shoulder through the wood, the ancient timber splintering like matchsticks.

And then the haunting screams came… not wolves, no, something else… something from hell. Laziel moved before I could blink, hauling me to my feet with one hand already reaching for his sword. "Stay behind me." I was grateful he didn't try to keep me from violence the way Ronan had. I’d seen too much of it in one lifetime to shy away like some big-greasted chicken getting chased by drooling hunters. But the window told me everything I needed to know. The gates were under attack. Chaos erupted beyond the door—shouts, the clash of steel, the wet, tearing sounds of flesh meeting claws.

​The Arctic Vault, once a silent tomb of Miller Vane’s secrets, now vibrated with a frequency that felt like the heartbeat of a god. The pulse-wave from the golden ship, the "Ancestry-Pulse", had bypassed the lead-quartz shielding as if it were nothing more than rice paper. Outside, the red fog of the Blood-Gate was being burned away, replaced by a blinding, oppressive gold that turned the Arctic sky into a sea of liquid fire.

When I looked up, my heart pounded at the sight of familiar eyes across the gate. He didn't look shock. But when he stopped and in the darkness of looking at me, I knew. Then his eyes turned darker, anger etched in those. He didn't even bother to get an umbrella or anything. He walked straight towards the gate even though it was already wet in the rain. I watched how he moved precisely and urgently. I want to close my eyes in fatigue but I prefer to look at him. "What the fuck are you doing, Audrey ?!" His voice thundered.

The moment the two High Elders and their desperate shield drew their final breaths, a profound, violent shockwave ripped through the very molecular structure of the high thrones. Outside, at the main western gates, the situation had reached a devastating, bloody breaking point. The frontline wolves were being pushed back by the sheer, relentless numbers of the elven infantry. Riheirk was on his knees, his iron shield dented nearly in half, his grey fur soaked in a mixture of torrential rain and his own blood as three elven spears pinned him against the shattered gate. Brynn was screaming, her blade notched and broken as she tried frantically to cut her way to his side through a wall of cryst

Under the gate-tower the wood begins to creak, at first only as plaintive, long sighs, then in short, brutal snaps, like lightning splitting a dry trunk in several places at once; the cross-braces protest, the chains on the pulleys scream, and the whole gate-leaf is struck like a single blow to the earth by a mass of black bodies — shadow-wolves, bodies slipping through the cracks, climbing one another, claws sparking as they rake, pressing from every quarter, and behind them the dark is no longer smoke but wind, thrust, will. “HOLD!” I shout; my voice rebounds off every flagstone of the courtyard, and the shield-wall does indeed close. From the upper bastion a hail of silver-headed arrows p

he blurted, holding the gaze of the man who stood beside me. The guard laughed lightly. “You mean it…” the guard tried to confirm if he wasn't joking. “There’s no going back,” he added “Hand her over,” he declared in an authoritative voice. The auctioneer chuckled as he raised his hand, “One thousand going once, going twice, and SOLD!!” he yelled with a sharp clash of his bell. A cold washed over me as I bit my lower lip hard. I didn’t want to stare too much at him. I shook my head slightly as the guard yanked me forward. My legs scraped on the concrete floor, and I knew it was going to leave a bruise.