The Thin Red Line Novels & Stories

I have feelings to consider, to understand and to feel that I just waited for someone that I deserve their love and deserves mine. I just bumped into someone who's fine-looking, he's named Articus Lawson. My future husband, the one that I am looking for. A tall guy with high regard to everyone. You kissed my forehead while laying down at your limb, you're holding a red thread and you tied it to our pinky fingers and asked, " You know this?" I looked at your dazzling eyes but I have no clue what it was for. " It is the Red ​Thread of Fate". I just closed my eyes. It was the last that I saw you and I couldn't ever open my eyes again. My last tears touched you, hope in our next life I can abut

I want you in my life, not just for a short while, but forever. My face was flushed and the tears were roaming down my face now. At this point, I didn’t care about my makeup which was already ruined. He was standing now and my sobs became louder. Slowly, he got down on one knee and brought out a beautiful diamond ring, the type I see only in movies. ‘Aurora darling, will you do me the favour, and say yes to being my wife?’

The nausea returned with a vengeance. I gasped, instantly clapping my hands over my mouth. The media, sensing a dramatic moment, went into a frenzy. The camera flashes intensified, exploding from every corner of the room like lightning. They were closing in, trying to capture my sudden pale expression. Russell realized instantly what was happening. Without a second thought, he whipped off his suit jacket and held it up, turning his back to the crowd to shield me entirely from the prying eyes of the cameras. He created a small, private wall between me and the world.

Lightning bolts shot from their fingertips, striking down foes with deadly accuracy. The vampires glided through the shadows, their movements nearly impossible to track. They attacked with lethal precision, their claws and fangs finding the throats of their victims before they even knew they were in danger. The Reds moved like a ghost, their swords flashing silver as they took down Rufus warriors one after another. The Reds' eyes shone with a sinister glow, reflecting the bloodlust that drove them. The battlefield was a scene of chaos and violence, filled with roars, screams, and the sound of clashing steel.

I mutter, my voice sounding way thinner and breathier than I intended. Roland lets out a low chuckle, rich and amused. I feel the brush of his sleeve against mine as he lifts a hand. His knuckles graze the sensitive skin right under my jaw, tracing a slow line down my neck, hovering just above the collar of my shirt where his marks are probably already fading in. "You're shaking," he whispers, leaning in so close his breath is hot against my ear. "Thinking about what we were just doing?"

“I don’t want to do this, please don’t make me.” The fear in my voice is palpable. The tension in the room can be cut with a knife. Beads of sweat run down the side of my face and down my neck. I move to wipe it off and then remember the all too familiar liquid that coats my hand like a second skin. Blood. Looking up into the night sky, the stars seem to twinkle, unaware of the turmoil I face. Suddenly a wave of bitterness washes over me. Why do I always have to play the fool? With an angry grunt I swing the knife down. Red explodes into the night. Dangerous and beautiful, my new favorite color.

His sorrow was evident and I could see it on the faces of everyone who knew them. “Collin McGowen, step forth, and claim the first incision,” I said, holding the knife in my palms for him to take. He stepped forward with tears in his eyes and grasped the knife tightly. He looked almost pleadingly at me and I nodded. I understood his silent request and I would honor it. It was the least I could do for these brave Zetas who had died protecting us. Collin knelt next to Scot, his first-born, and unbuttoned his shirt. He took a deep breath and made the incision from his sternum down his chest.

Somewhere north of it, in a shooting lodge in Sutherland, nine people who were told what they were before they had to carry it are asleep in a building named after a room in Aberdeen. And under all of it, in a channel she can no longer hear, something very old is going about its business, in no particular hurry, waiting for a door that has opened four times before. "Quiet," she says. "It feels quiet." She picks up her glass. "I'm going to need about ten years to get used to it," she says, "and I'd like to spend them here." END OF BLOODLINE ZERO

Lorenzo came down the stairs and carried a half conscious Camila towards the door who was too weak to cry out for help A bloodied Riccardo picked himself up from the floor and followed behind

“Alright. Lance you and Dylan take the two alive rogues to the barn. Randy take the rest, patrol the area, make sure there are no more.” “Yes Alpha.” they all ring out in unison and disperse. Armi and I are left there with the dead rogues. We wait and watch as they shift back, then search the dead bodies. We flip over a couple and check them thoroughly. Sure enough, Lance was right. “There are Silver Rock warrior tattoos on each one of them.” Armi says through gritted teeth. “Not a bad play, they even smelled like rogues. They all have.” I voice. “Can’t argue with that,, unfortunately.”