Unholy Blood Book Novels & Stories

“And you get even more provocative with coffee. How many cups today?” “Only three. But I brought books. And promises of civilized conversation.” He opened the bag, pulling out a few titles, including a copy of The Origin of Lost Bloods, about Celtic mythology and sacred blood. “If I didn’t know what you are, I’d think you were a historian with a witch fetish,” she commented, picking up the book. “I only have a fetish for one,” he replied, lower. Before the sentence could fade, the air in the mansion trembled.

Offia whispered and Nwife opened his eyes widely. "Why did he give them a cut with the sword before burying them alive?" Nwife asked. "They said he was able to control their Spirit once their blood touches the enchanted sword. Normally, anyone who dies through such barbaric means would seek revenge, but once their blood is on the sword, they would be his slave forever and would do whatever he asks them to do. They kill whoever he sends them to kill," Offia explained and fear gripped Nwife. "He so wicked and the gods must punish him."

Her skin seemed colder. Her lips were a bit blue and appeared to be a bit of blood inside her nostrils. My body shook with fear. Widened eyes refused to unseen the view. My heart leaped into my throat as I shrunk back and stood there voiceless. "She died seventy years ago, but even today, her blood flows out of her vein proves this place is cursed." His words throbbed inside me. I left with nothing but a numb body when he explained further.

It was an abandoned place now, thick with dust and silence, but the Priestess once mentioned that the truth of this kingdom lies where most fear to look—in forgotten ink. I moved quietly through the vast hallways lined with ancient tomes, their spines cracked, their secrets sealed for centuries. My fingers brushed over leather covers, brittle scrolls, and weathered stone shelves. I didn’t even know what I was looking for—until I saw it. A half-torn book, its cover scorched and faded. Title etched in blood-colored ink: “The Cursed Bloodline: History of the Black Lycan.” My heart skipped. I pulled it out with trembling hands, sitting cross-legged on the floor between the shelves. The pages ins

And I froze when the walls became fully visible. My heart stopped. My breath caught in my throat. The walls were covered in something dark, wet and red. Blood! The walls were covered in blood. And words were written on it with blood. Large letters smeared across the concrete. On the wall, written in blood was a message meant only for me. I read them slowly. And each word was like a knife to my heart. "Irina is mine now. No one is coming for you. You will die in that chair, brother!"

“It looked like staring to me, dear.” Elira sighed like a hopeless child as Nireya wasn’t far from the truth. The texts were so unfamiliar to Elira, she barely understood what she’d been reading for the past few minutes. “Where did you get such a book?” Nireya asked, wiping her damp hands on the apron she wore around her neck. “It's a spell book,” Elira said at the same time the grinder came to a stop, her voice raising a bit too high and maidservants nearby shared worried glances. “My Instructor gave it to me.”

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't get to know you. I'm sorry you died alone. I'm sorry for everything." I reached into the chest and touched the bones. They were cold. But beneath the chill, I felt something else: paper. I pulled it out. A scroll, ancient and yellowed, sealed with wax that cracked at my touch. My hands trembled as I unrolled it. The script was archaic, predating my father, the Council, anything I had ever encountered. Yet, I could read it. "The blood of the First Wolf cannot be destroyed. It can only be passed. From parent to child. From generation to generation. But when two half-bloods unite—when the broken blood joins with the broken blood—the First Wolf is reborn."

Chapter Two: The Book of Repentance. Ciara's PoV: The lock clicked behind me and the sound went straight through my body like a second heartbeat. I stood there in the sacristy, breath caught, staring at Father Chris. The room wasn’t dark anymore. He had lit four tall candles on the side table, their flames dancing across the stone walls and throwing warm gold light over the heavy wooden table in the center. A big leather-bound book lay open on it, thick pages glowing in the candlelight.

As secrets surface and desire ignites, she’s caught between a man she should fear and a passion she can’t ignore. The deeper she falls into Alexander’s world, the harder it becomes to tell whether he’s her captor… or her only chance at survival. Dark. Addictive. Explosive. Blood & Oath is a gripping mafia romance about loyalty, revenge, and a love so fierce it might just destroy them both.

Countless shelves lined with weathered books and scrolls stretched into the distance, promising untold secrets and forgotten wisdom. They made their way through the labyrinthine aisles, their eyes scanning the titles and searching for any mention of Lycans or black magic. Dust danced in the rays of sunlight that filtered through stained glass windows, lending an ethereal quality to their journey. Finally, they discovered a section dedicated to ancient legends and forbidden knowledge. The books here were wrapped in worn leather, their pages delicate and yellowed with age. Rey's fingers traced the spines until they settled upon a tome titled "The Chronicles of Shadows: Unveiling the Secrets of