Vampire Dust Oblivion Novels & Stories

His eyes shone with pride and evil. The blood in my veins started to boil with anger. He was the one to take my Delilah away from him. Rage crept under my skin and holding his gaze, I dug my claws into the neck of his minion and used my fangs to unroot his head and threw it away from his body. Deborah was flying over the castle on her broom, trying to pinpoint Asteria's location. Our little army was taking down vampires one by one but in no time, the more flooded the battlefield.

This pull is strange, scary but amazing. The problem now is, how do I keep the most stubborn Vampire to ever exist safe without having a fight with her?

His voice trailed off. "But despite that," Stuff spoke up, "in order to invoke it and to make everything go as planned, something had to be given in return." "What thing?" Elijah asked. "Two... Lives," he replied. Elijah looked at the brown-haired man as he pieced together everything he was hearing. As he saw the sadness and anger in his voice, even if the Sheriff took it as something normal, Elijah didn't see it that way. He deduced that the same eagle had done such terrible things before, and that he and Rebekah probably should know who that creature was. He turned his gaze to Rebekah, who held what he had held before, the small gold bracelet he knew was his mother's; he couldn't help his

My name is Elora and I reside at the Blue Mountain Packhouse. I have a slim figure, long curly blonde hair which I usually wear up in a bun so it is out of my face. My eyes are a deep blue which I love. I am not a normal girl though. You see I am a shewolf, my rank at the packhouse is an omega. I don’t know my parents because they passed away when I was just a tiny baby, so I don’t have any memories of them. The only thing I have is a necklace locket from my mother. I have never taken it off because it makes me feel close to her spirit.

His target entered the abandoned building walked inside while occasionally looking outside like she was expected someone is going to this place. Enter the room where Azrael is the target. All of a sudden Azrael shot the target in the leg causing the target to fall. Azrael went down to his hiding place to finish the target with his blade but the target still held her pistol while she was lying on the ground. When Azrael was close to the target, she suddenly turned around and shot Azrael. Azrael dodged the first shot but was hit in the shoulder in the second shot. Because of this, Azrael just knelt down while holding his shoulder so that his blood would not leak. “You are Azrael Cross. What di

I said I knew every part of the mine, every pipe and every vent. I pulled a lever on the floor. A big blast of gas and steam shot out from under Varkas. It sent him flying into the air. But the steam was not just hot it also had dust in it. To a wolf who was corrupted by the Void silver dust was like acid. Varkas screamed as the dust started to burn his skin. He fell back into the pit and his own people started to attack him. Kaelen shouted that the pylons were down. Ryker said the children were safe.

In his hand was an ornate goblet filled with a dark red liquid. I took the glass and immediately sensed the subtle, yet lethal, trace of silver dust within. The plan was a success. In full view of everyone, I slowly raised my glass, a graceful smile on my lips. “Thank you all for being here tonight. To the glory of the Nightshade Clan, and to peace and prosperity for the entire vampire world—cheers!” I drained the glass. A few seconds later, I gave a theatrical stagger, coughed up a mouthful of blood, and collapsed heavily onto the floor.

His presence presses against my instincts, a compulsion that is designed to bend, to dominate, to remind lesser beings of their place. It is not brute force. That would be crude. This is refinement honed by centuries, an unspoken command woven into the air itself. The kind that seeps into bone and breath alike. This is not something vampires resist. But I do. What they do not know, what most assume incorrectly, is that I am merely a Sanguinari hybrid. They forget that I am a Matesson, the spawn of an original. And I am a Graham, of human blueblood.

The elder vampire turned around, with the gun still in his hand, and pulled the trigger. Mason's eyes widened and he gasped as the vervain bullet pierced through his skin and became lodged in his chest. He staggered back and fell to the ground, unmoving. Harley screamed as Demitri pulled the trigger two more times to triple the dosage of vervain; making it impossible for Mason to break through.

The spire cracks—fissures spreading lightning-fast. Core exposed—pulsing vulnerable. I dive straight in. **Abyssal Canticle**—voice carrying through wards. Swarm screams—HP bars plummeting across HUD. *Ultimate: Swarm Debuff – ninety percent Resistance Down* Julian strikes the core—fangs sinking deep, draining the heart dry. Vampires tear it apart. Charges detonate. The spire explodes—black ichor raining, shockwave flattening lesser beasts. Nest dies—core imploding silent.