The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt Blood And Wine の小説・ストーリー

The elder looked at me with confusion. Is this also part of the wedding? I sighed heavily and hopelessly put back my hand at the top of his. Someone appeared beside the elder. It was a boy carrying a golden wine glass. It has a red liquid inside. What was that?! “What’s that?” I whispered to Damon, but Damon just glared at me. I wanna glared at him back but the elder glanced at us. “This wine will be the representation of your eternal bond to each other,” the elder said and held out the wine glass to Damon and Damon immediately sipped a bit of it.

They didn’t even draw their guns, remaining frozen in place. "I said I'm leaving." I tried again, but my voice slurred at the end. I didn’t drink to get drunk because it meant letting my guard down, signing my own death certificate. Back at the restaurant, I only had two glasses of wine, which I could handle perfectly. So why was my speech slurring? “The fuuuck are you doing?” I pointed my gun at the bald head. “Get your weapon.” The slur was getting worse, not better. “Don’t waste a bullet on him,” said Hades—or the twin that had appeared by his side. “Our work has already been done for us.”

The anticipation was building, the energy in the room becoming almost palpable, like a wave threatening to crush over us. One word from the Pack's oldest member and Axel's eyes turned red in an emotion I can't describe. The first time I'd seen his eyes turn red I'd been scared and now I was so eager for him to sink his teeth into mine. He drew closer and I lay my neck bare, ready for him to sink his teeth and seal the bond. Axel sank his teeth into the same spot he bit me that night… that night that became a new beginning for the both of us and I never ever regretted it. It was that night that made both of us better, especially Me. One of the members handed me a goblet Golden cup filled with

"Ava made a bone flute with my wolf mom's blood and bones. Go beg her instead. After all, Noah said she's a hundred times better than me." I no longer listened to his persuasions. A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips. I blew the bone flute with all my strength. A loud wolf howl pierced the sky. John's face turned pale. "It's over…" A few minutes later, loud thuds hit the front gate. Bang, bang! The gate was broken open. Through a cloud of yellow dust, a pack of wild wolves appeared—all of them towering over men, howling in fury.

The taste is fantastic, artificially enhanced by the plant to almost the former lusciousness of my fae prisoner. I lock my eyes with the witch, digging my teeth deeper into the feeder, and wide-eyed, she backs away. Greedily guzzling the life-giving dark wine, I wrap the feeder tighter in my arms as she slumps, her breathing growing rapid and shallow, her heart pounding to compensate for the blood loss in the moments before she dies.

I dragged myself off the floor and into the bathroom to wash all the blood off me and bandage my wounds. It was a painfully slow process. I had never gotten hurt when hunting before. Never. That was partly because I didn’t hunt and partly because in all my practice, I was a silent killer. I never engaged in fights. I ambushed and killed. There were times when I felt guilty about that style, never giving the animals a fighting chance, but I thought it was better in the long run. They would still loose, werewolves were at the top of the food chain with the exception of Lycans, although they had died out so long ago that they were now nothing more than a myth. By attacking them and ending it qu

She sighed in relief even though she was shocked at the discovery of the king being her saviour. Suddenly she looked up at the maid who was filling the glass of water for her, "But why am I feeling so much pain? Her whole body is hurting." The maid sighed forwarding the glass towards the omega before answering. "It's an aftereffect of vampire wine, the wine is specifically made for vampires, and even vampires like me, lowly ranked can't handle it, then why do you a werewolf think that you can handle it." This silenced Zinnia, she didn't ask another question and grabbed the glass before chugging on the water like she had been thirsty for years.

"The 'Blood Audit' is a relic. The 'Art of Falling' is a foundation. This... this is the Art of the Horizon." Silas and Leo joined us on the deck, the two of them looking like the architects of a peace that didn't need a guardian. Silas held a bottle of vintage Sicilian red, a gift from the safe house we had liberated. He poured five glasses, the wine a deep, bloody crimson that caught the sunlight and turned it into rubies. "To the higher ground," Silas said, raising his glass toward the skyline that no longer owned him. "To the people who were brave enough to fall until they found it," Leo added, his voice steady with the weight of the man he had become.

“They’re desperate though. Six month contract. One-twenty total if you can stick it out but I bet anyone can make it that far.” Renee whistles low. “Damn.” “Yeah. But I wouldn’t do it for double. That family’s cursed.” The name sits in my chest like a stone. Petrova. “Wait.” Beth’s voice drops. “Isn’t that the family from that accident? A few years ago?” “Yeah. The daughter died. God. Lily… she was only fourteen. Brother was driving. Kai Petrova. Car got hit and she died at the scene. He’s in a wheelchair now.”