Witch Bloodline Novels & Stories

“What bloodline?” The witch looked at her slowly. “One that was never meant to rise again.” The tension inside the room changed immediately. Even the elders looked unsettled now. Logan’s jaw tightened slightly. “Explain properly.” The witch finally looked at him. “Her blood carries ancient power,” she said quietly. “Power connected to the first wolves.” Nobody spoke. The fire crackled softly inside the silence. The witch continued. “That white wolf should not exist anymore.” Lucia folded her arms tightly.

More than that, the werewolf genes inside of me started to stir, to fight against the external force. I would never shift, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t steal a couple of abilities from my closest-related species. My body took over, throwing Omari off of me and sending him hurling into the wall. The sound echoed throughout the entire house as he groaned and landed on the floor on all-fours. I hurried for the stairs away from him, but once again, only got down about a step before he was grabbing me.

Alpha Collen mumbled in excitement. "But there is a little problem." The beta said. "What problem?" "The seer (witch) of the pack mentioned that the child in your mate womb is carrying the last bloodline of your great grandparents." He added. "That is not a problem, my child is special then, you know I heard from my parents that my great grandfather was a big red and black werewolf, I wonder what colour my child will be, even if my child doesn't inherit I or my mate's colour of the wolf, I know my child will have those wolf yellowish eyes just like every one of us here in our pack."

Anton snapped. "Then be quick about it! They can be here any minute! They have witches you know!" "No, they won't. This is central Northlands. Things work differently around here, Alpha " Anton said with a proud disposition that almost made me smile. Well, he is not wrong. Vrionis may gather as many of my kind as he could find and they still would be no match and Anton knew it. He was a descendant of Adalwulf, his Lycan blood ran deep and he knew everything that needed to be known about our defences. His family had been part of that for decades. Even if I were taken out of the equation. The pack still has Saraya, an immortal witch who had not even tapped into a quarter of her powers. And th

“Before Nightbane. Before Silver Creek. Before the packs divided themselves into separate territories.” She stepped toward the cracked altar slowly, her fingers brushing across ancient markings etched into the stone. “There were once two ruling bloodlines,” she continued. “One carried authority strong enough to command wolves. The other carried the ability to strengthen and stabilize that power.” My stomach tightened. I already knew where this was going. Seris looked at me. “Silver Creek descended from one line,” she said softly. Then her gaze shifted toward Kael. “Nightbane descended from the other.” Silence filled the chamber again.

Although, playing devils advocate, from everything I now know, I can see how the whole picture at once may be overwhelming. It's a case of damned if you do damned if you don’t. The problem with that is, I still have no bloody idea what he is talking about and why he is in such a state. “Okay, I’ll start from the beginning.” Marcel takes my other hand in his and gives them both a gentle squeeze. He tells me about the first witch, Aadhya, and how she was betrayed by her lover. Her last acts before her unnecessarily brutal death were to curse her lover’s lineage with the werewolf gene, they would become the Celestial bloodline, my blood line. With her dying words she spoke of a child who would

The tension in the room eased slightly, and Lily felt herself relax marginally. "Well," she said, reaching for her glass of whiskey, "now that we've established you two aren't going to kill each other immediately, shall we get on with the family history lesson?" Lily's mother nodded, her emerald eyes, so similar to Lily's own, flashing with an ancient wisdom. "Our bloodline, the Winters, carries with it a legacy of extraordinary power," she began, her voice low and melodious. "Much like the Ravencrofts are renowned among vampires, we are... formidable in the realm of witchcraft."

"Oh, you don't know this yet, Hannah? As the Crown Princess of the Moon Church, you had the bloodline of a pureblood vampire since you born. You are closest person to a Blood Host and the most suitable heir to the vampire kingdom." He paused for a moment and looked at me. I could see he was a little bit regret: "But as you can see, something wrong happened to your body. It leads you to have two bloodlines, not only vampire blood but also werewolf blood. Werewolves and vampires have been hostile for tens of thousands of years. You must know it very well. In this case, if you, a person who has both bloodlines, rule the entire vampire kingdom directly, most of the vampires will not agree."

“He wasn’t a wolf.” The room feels colder. My heart stops. “What was he?” I ask, though dread coils in my stomach like a tightening rope. She swallows hard. “A bloodline vampire. One of the old clans… He died before he ever knew Allyssa existed.” My jaw clenches. The pieces fall painfully into place. Bloodline vampires are rare, powerful, and ancient. If she inherited even a fraction of that blood… No wonder her shift was violent. No wonder she fought herself.

The witch whispered an incantation and the vial began to glow as the blood swirled, mixing in the vial. A single moment stretched into an eternity and then, the mixture flared bright green. It was the unmistakable symbol of Dragon blood. The witch gasped softly as Gregory’s eyes widened, his jaw loosening in shock. Stephanie felt her stomach drop, her pulse skipping in her throat while Davies closed his eyes. It was not triumph, not arrogance either but in relief. Pure, exhausted relief. “The child is of Dragon lineage, this man is his father.” The witch announced and silence settled in the atmosphere like a heavy curtain.