You Can't Cross The Bloodline Lyrics Novels & Stories

“Because that’s how it works in our world. What I want has never mattered. I’m a pawn, Gia. Nothing more.” She shook her head fiercely. “No. No, there has to be another way. You don’t have to do this. You could leave—” “Run?” My laugh was hollow. “If I ran, Ricci would find me. And he wouldn’t just punish me. He would punish my family. My mother. My brothers. Especially my father.” I let out a shaky breath. “I couldn’t live with that blood on my hands.”

Demetrius had slit her throat as he raped her, her blood pooling over him and after that day, Dominic had never dared to love a woman again. ‘Not until Isadora,’ Dominic thought ruefully as he was pulled back to the present. He’d been seventeen that day in the basement, and he could still smell his father’s cigar. “Hail, holy Queen, mother of Mercy. Hail, our life, our sweetness and our hope. To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve; to thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping, in this vale of tears. Turn then, most gracious advocate, thine eyes of mercy toward us; and after this our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus. O clement, O loving, O sweet virg

"Losing just a little blood made me cold, dizzy... I thought I was gonna die. Only then did I get it—what I put you through. I stole your blood. I deserve to die..." His voice broke as he wept, like a kid who'd done something unforgivable. "I deserve to die... I deserve to die..." I sighed. "You don't have to die. Just stay out of my life." *** Back home, Vincent insisted on wiring me a ridiculous amount of money. "This is a breakup fee. If you don't take it, that means you don't agree to break up." I took it. Just like that, I was financially free. ***

She stopped herself. Not her what? She thought of Marcus. Of Elena. The form of Lydia's smile. She remembered the night when everything changed, the night nobody was to remember. “No, no, no,” said Ava, shaking her head. "That doesn't mean anything." However, it did not erase the words on the screen. “Bloodline,” she read again. “It is possible that strangers can match, but not very common. Rare.” Her hands began to shake. "If I matched..." she said and could not complete the sentence.

They were testing the fences, looking for weakness in the new wolf. "Silence." The word cracked like a whip. It didn't come from Min. Elder Park, Underboss One, set his tea cup down. The sound was deafening. He looked around the room, his gaze heavy with decades of violence. "The bloodline is the law," Park rumbled. "The Chairman chose his heir. The Heir has cleaned the house. If anyone wishes to join Kang in his 'resignation,' speak now." The room went deadly still. Park’s endorsement was the seal of legitimacy.

She reads it to us. It is not long. The legible sections say: *We are the ones who read what others cannot see. We are the ones who carry the moon in our blood. We are scattered. [illegible] We will find each other. [illegible] The gift does not diminish with distance. [illegible] When seven voices speak together the room will finally hear.* She stops. The courtyard above us. The October light. Seven voices. Seven bloodlines. The room will finally hear.

“And I… I can’t get enough of it. Of you.” Raven laughed quietly, the sound raw. “And I can’t get enough of you. Even like this. Even broken. You’re still… terrifyingly, impossibly you.” Jaxon’s grip tightened, a shiver of possession threading through the gesture. “Good,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “Because I survived for you, and you… you survived for me. That makes us unstoppable.” Her gaze met his fully, dark and intense. “We’ve crossed lines, Jax. Blood is on our hands. There’s no undoing it.”

"Go wash yourself off." I did not say a single word. I held my chin up high, refusing to let a single tear drop, refusing to give any of them the satisfaction of seeing me break down. I turned on my heel and walked straight past the laughing crowds, my wet sneakers squeaking loudly against the concrete as I bolted into the nearest building.

—THE ANCIENT AWAKENING A blast of energy burst from Ava’s chest—the obsidian pendant burned white-hot. The blood on her skin shimmered, then lifted into the air like smoke. The Moon above turned fully crimson. A voice filled the chamber—not hers. But a thousand voices—women long dead, wolves long buried. “We are the Bloodline. We remember.” “We were never yours to bind.” The silver shackles melted. The Moon Blade cracked. Ava rose from the altar—eyes glowing white. Hair whipping behind her like wildfire. The Elders backed away in fear. The crowd fell silent.

“He said… he said it would be blood. That the power in my blood was the key, but it would only work if I embraced it fully. But it would cost me. It would cost all of us.” Ronan stepped forward, his expression filled with an urgency I couldn’t ignore. “You can’t do this alone, Seraphina. We can’t let him control you, not like this. Whatever the price is, we’ll find a way to stop him.” I looked at him, my heart breaking at the depth of his concern. But he didn’t understand. No one understood. Not the way I did. The weight of the bloodline, the curse that came with it—it was something I could feel in my bones. It was something that wasn’t just mine. It was tied to all of us. To the packs. To t