Written In Blood She Wants Revenge Novels & Stories

She frowned disapprovingly at the mental image as if the previous Estel were a stranger with whom she had no connection. It was not enough to stop the old Estel from pacing, she realized as she stood up. What she did desire, however, required clarification. Where was she headed with her newfound wisdom and the growing restlessness that fought with her exhaustion? While it was certainly not the most polite of intentions, at the moment, she could only think about finding a way to exact revenge on Michael. Estel's focus was broken when Shayne reminded her she was meant to be sick by knocking on the door. She walked up to the chaise lounge sofa and lay on it before beckoning Shayne inside.

I thought of the world that was currently waking up to a silence it didn’t understand. But as I felt that tiny, second heartbeat pulse against my palm, I didn’t feel like a fugitive. I didn’t feel like a victim of a global conspiracy. I felt like an Architect. The first book was about the blood. It was about the betrayal and the breaking of the old world. It was about the trauma of the glass and the roar of the mountain. But the second book? The one we were starting right now, in this quiet French valley? That book was going to be about the Home.

I asked gently. But she cut me off. “You said you’d help me get back at Kayla and Alex,” she said sharply, her voice full of heat. That was all she cared about. Just revenge. At first, I wanted to raise my voice. To shout back. But it didn’t matter anymore. Not when I could feel that dangerous part of me stirring. The part tied to this cursed bloodline. If I let it out, I knew it wouldn’t end well. For either of us.

She stepped down into a pool of blood they had spilled, and it sizzled, black smoke curling upward as if the earth itself were rejecting it. I froze for a heartbeat, watching her, heart hammering. And then she turned, fixing me with her gaze. It wasn’t anger, not really—it was recognition, a demand. “What do they want?” I asked, my voice almost a whisper. “They demand revenge,” she said, voice low, like the rumble of distant thunder.

Once I promised her that I wouldn't be the devil she knew, but that's behind me, I'm thirsty for blood, for revenge, to dismember with my own hands each one of them, of those damned who feel they have the right to want to possess her. And they will regret it, each one of those names that are on that list, have signed their death sentence, I will not leave anyone alive.

she replied with her eyes staring straight back at mine. If she was trying to convince me that she was serious, I believed her without a second thought. As I continue to listen to her words, I get more assured. “I am done being scared of blood so I dare to thirst for it!” As clear as crystal, her words expressed wanting to execute revenge! “I have nothing to lose now….” she continued. She was still saying words but these last ones lingered in my heart and mind. Recalling her dad’s untimely death, a stinging pain pinched my heart. She must have felt like life had been teasing and provoking her. Now even her fear of blood is forgotten.

Boldly kissing me out of nowhere and also getting embarrassed about it the next second–she was seriously bizarre! "You're such an idiot, I swear," I let out, shaking my head. "You better eat a lot of iron-rich food—" "Oh, about that," she came to her normal shameless self and confessed, "That blood isn't mine. I had some blood left from my last victims." I stared at her blankly. "Say what?" She grinned ear to ear. "Did you really think I would use my own blood to write the graffiti? I mean, I love you, Eltan, and I want you to be mine, but for that, I need to stay alive, right?"

When the pen touched the document— Blood from her wound dripped. A red drop fell right on top of her name. Livia Moreau. She finished her signature with trembling hands. Her blood stained the contract. A promise she had never even chosen. Robert smiled with satisfaction. “Good.” He closed the folder. “Now everything is finished.” But for Livia— This had just begun. This marriage was not salvation. It was hell. And the man who would become her husband… Hated her more than anyone else in this world.