The Witcher Blood Of Elves Novels & Stories

I said, lifting my chin as best I could. “You think fire consumes. Mine rebirths.” He blinked, then chuckled darkly. “Poetic. Useless, but poetic.” He turned to a robed figure in the shadows — the witch. Her face looked more drawn than before. Her lips moved, murmuring something I couldn’t hear. Acwulf held up a flask of my blood; old, congealed. He poured it into the center of the ritual circle. The runes blazed white. Pain lanced through my chest like a spear. My back arched. I screamed.

Yannick went on. “A blood witch?” I heard Soraya whispered as she stepped right beside me. She must be intrigued. “The powerful witch helped Yadriel by suppressing his wolf blood until he became human but in exchange, Yadriel must pay her using blood. Blood for blood. Yadriel kidnapped young wolfborns and used them to pay the blood witch. Yadriel ran away with Elizabeth and they eventually lived a peaceful life with their normal son, Yonathan. Decades later, Yonathan got married and had a son but he’s not born normal. Yonathan sought the help of his father Yadriel who admitted that he was a werewolf and that blood magic cured it but apparently. Yadriel then helped Yonathan by seeking the hel

she continued, her face looking like she was there when it all happened. “Then, one witch figured it out. Helena, the mother of beasts” she said, her voice now hard. “Helena used elven blood to open a gate way into hell, gaining herself the power to create creatures that were never meant to live in this plane” she said, her anger turning horrified.

“It's just a drop of blood; the location will be more accurate.” I nodded in agreement. “Blood of Stars, Red Trail, With a drop spilled, I unleash the magic that reveals the trace of the lost.” Elara began the enchantment, dripping my blood onto the ground, where it slowly rose, twirling a necklace of wooden stakes. “May the scarlet essence map the steps of those who wander among shadows, guiding them through the symphony of blood, until they find those seeking redemption in the purgatory of wandering wolves!” The floating necklace pointed forward on a path we did not yet know.

Hidden warriors surrounded the perimeter. Kael stood at her side. “Ready?” he asked. Aria nodded. “Let’s end this.” Then she whispered the words Elandra had etched into her mind. “Blood to blood. Soul to shadow. Come and take what you think is yours.” The wind howled. The flames on the torches turned blue. And the witch stepped out of the dark. Her cloak dragged over the earth. Her hands glowed black. And her smile was venom. “You summoned me, little wolf.”

Wolves tore through Dark Elf raiders, claws ripping, teeth sinking, while I intercepted attackers before they reached exposed scouts. Hours passed, the sun rising higher, the stench of blood and smoke thick in the air. The Dark Elfs were brutal, strategic, and terrifyingly precise. They avoided our traps, moved silently, and struck in packs that overwhelmed our defenses. Rowan’s soldiers were relentless, but the Dark Elfs outmaneuvered even the most seasoned Lycans. By mid-morning, Elias’ forces had suffered devastating losses. Scouts, soldiers, even elite warriors—many had fallen. Wolves stumbled under exhaustion, fur streaked with blood, lungs burning with effort. I could feel the anger co

The Seer barely noticed. “Next one.” She uncorked the vial hanging from her neck. Witch blood. She took more of the Elara's blood. I felt nauseous thinking that we let Mireya touched her body. The smell hit imiedietly - herbs, iron, smoke, and something wild enough to make my wolf pace hard. The Seer poured it into the center of the circle. The blood hissed on contact. Then burst upward in a column of crimson mist. The Hollow Mother smiled. “Yes, finally.” she whispered.

“She confirmed what the Witch wants.” My jaw clenches. “The ritual.” “Yes.” She glances down briefly at her stomach. “The Witch needs three things.” “Let me guess,” I mutter darkly. “Elara.” “Kael.” “And the pup.” Elara nods slowly. “She needs the royal bloodline… and your cursed one.” My wolf snarls quietly. “She’ll never get them.” Elara gives me a small, tired smile. “That’s not the worst part.” My chest tightens.

A pair of witches in long green coats passed by, their eyes glowing faintly as they whispered to each other. A group of wolves in human form lounged by a fountain, their gazes following me with open suspicion. And then there were the vampires. They didn’t walk so much, more of gliding, moving with that unnatural grace I’d only ever seen in movies. Every single one of them seemed aware of me, like they could smell what I was under the ward. “This is…” I began. “A lot?” Davorin finished. “Yeah. Definitely a lot.” We stopped at a tall, arched doorway carved with more ancient designs.

“You’ve broken exile.” Elira stiffened. Kaelen felt the air between them thrum with tension. “I had no choice,” she replied. The elf’s eyes narrowed. “You swore the Oath. And now you drag this half-blood into our lands, leaving fire and death in your wake. Do you understand what you’ve done?” Kaelen’s chest tightened. Half-blood. The word cut like a blade. Elira’s grip on her dagger tightened. “I will not let him fall into their hands. Not the wolves. Not the vampires. Not even yours.”