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Chapter 12
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2024-10-29 19:42:56The sun’s blinding rays are the only thing that awoke Rozelyn.
She’s quite upset because neither Romaine nor Cyrill have woken her up in this English-style manor.
She grasped the hems of the bloody red curtains and swiftly split it open while still in her lavender silk nightgown.
Rozelyn peered outside as her chamber was facing the rear part of this wide and a hundred-hectare private state.
‘The coven and the pack are indeed super wealthy, considering the minimum price tag of this place is no less than a million euros.’
She murmured softly. So soft that perhaps even the robin by the oak tree in front of her window cannot even hear what she mumbled.
She was
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If only the waffles on her oval plate could whimper, it has long gone whining for her fork’s delicate touch.Rozelyn can no longer manage to eat properly.How could she when Cyrill kept on staring at her?Or is he peering at her pristine rounded breasts?Well, this was her plan anyway—to encaged Cyrill’s gaze within her figure only.But now, she seems uncomfortable and agonizing.‘For hell’s sake, what the hell is going on with me!’Rozelyn’s internal screaming was bouncing at the walls of her mind.Since the moment she opened her eyes this morning, her entire self was already surging with frenziness and venereal madness.Hemera has already told her at the lavish gazebo that this party is for camaraderie and reunion.Frankly, Rozelyn was somehow debating if Hemera’s context of reunion was the common definition, or was the wine-red-haired vampire referring to the carn
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Romaine was at the edge of his blade.Dorrien’s ten-inch flesh blade has been repetitively stabbing her on the inside.But it was not pain that was flooding her.It was pleasure—intense pleasure.This has been the primary reason why she always loves every year’s Housewarming Ceremony.Whether there is a new addition to be welcomed or not, the coven and the pack have strictly been observing the sacred ceremony for two reasons: for camaraderie and fo
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Rozelyn slept on their golden couch without actually closing her eyes.A maelstrom of rage and enigma has been whirling inside her.‘Is this some sort of insult from a long-time family rival or an unexpected coincidence?’She mused at that notion. Ludwig has long been ‘not on good terms’ with the Zadzisai family even before her father has departed in the afterlife.She’s gradually piecing the slivers of reason on why that god-damn sheriff would accuse her Cyrill for a murder and homicide.“They took my Cyrill!”She squealed while sobbing. Her tears repeatedly sliding down from her face.Francisco seems to pity her; the orange feline’s eyes are full of worry and comfort. The cat hoisted his right paw and caressed Rozelyn’s raven hair.She smiled at their family pet.
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The room was dark; only the clamouring of chains reverberated in walls of the abandoned warehouse.Hemera couldn’t believe it. Someone in Shamrock has the deadly Black Peruvian Rose.Avril punched the man tied in the chair once more. Blood gushed out from the man’s nose like water flowing down the river.The man, who’s drenched in his own blood and tears, begged soundly even when his mouth was tied shut with a calico.“Finish him,” Hemera commanded Vesta.In a heartbeat, the man’s brown skin turned utterly pale. Blood was now dripping from Vesta’s fangs. She savoured it jovially as if a kid drinking strawberry juice. She gave a handful of blood-filled glass to the grand vampire.Candice Churchill, who refused the share of the man’s remnants due to her just devouring a fawn an hour ago, glared at Hemera unyieldin
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Ludwig’s face was illuminated by the tangerine light of the fluorescent bulb above his head.His private chamber was wholly shut that perhaps even the tiny ants will have a hard time entering his hideous lair.He was growing impatient to the repetitive wailing of this woman.Ludwig took one taste of his cigarette, making the tendrils of smoke flood the crisp evening air, before he spoke.“Are you still gonna continue whining here like a child or are you going to do what I told you to do?”
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Ludwig was still frozen in his seat.The Blood Mistress has told him to find the Amalgam—an entity who is a half vampire and a half werewolf.He is no fucking Amalgam or werewolf detector. But, the bitch has threatened his life and his family if he’s not going to comply.Dusk already beckons him to go home, to where his adoptive daughter Vivien is having a bed rest.Ludwig has no choice but to follow the order or else he’ll be the one to be served in the Blood Mistress’ table as an order.
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Ever since Cyrill was turned into werewolf, there is not a single minute that his Pasiphae abilities will not yearn to be unleashed.But now…now is the perfect time to completely release his mighty powers. There is no turning back.No. Not this time. He will not be cowered by these three Death Summoners’ mere presence. His indomitable godly presence will not be turned down by these shitty black-cloaked people.He is Cyrill Clarke. The beta of the Irish Pack and a Pasiphae werewolf.And he will not step back.***In a heartbe
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This was probably the worst day of his twenty-three years of existence.Why is that when the Samhain is nearing, more bloody occurrences are unexpectedly happening? Was this a coincidence?No. He once heard from a World War II veteran way back in England that nothing in this world is a coincidence. Everything happens for a reason.And who the hell is the Blood Mistress? Is she a woman? Or a man hiding beneath the cloak of a woman? Either way, this person is wholly lunatic and psychotic.‘I will mercilessly skin that bitch alive if ever I found out who she i
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The Blood Rose Lady Author's Note
This book is my debut novel [ shrieks in incredulity @_@ ]. I can’t even believe that I have finished it. I originally tended this book to be a stand-alone. But, I become indulged on the own world that I created that I decided to expand it >_< . I know that an urban dark fantasy with a touch of steamy romance is not that popular for online novels. But I still finished it anyway; despite my initial belief that I can’t get pass through 50k words. And here I am, finishing a book with a whopping 70 chapters and more than a hundred thousand words! The sequel and final installment of The Blood Rose saga entitled, “Queen of Vampires and Werewolves”, will be coming this April—or May. Anyway
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Rozelyn’s irresistible smell still lingers in his nose, despite the fact that he is already in Avril’s house—in which the pregnant Anaztasia Arryn is also staying. “You okay, Cy?” asked Avril as he handed him a can of beer. Avril Arke’s backyard is so spacious and calming, as if the lushness of this place resembles a virgin forest. “Not really. I…I have hinted to Roz that my heart yearns for her.” A smile tugged on his best friend's lips. “What did she say then?” “She didn’t. She was going to say something but she held back.” Avril took
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Anger was still prevalent in Rhella’s heart. “How could he exchange me for that bitch?!” Her voice resonated in her little room, inside Maebh’s estate. “I didn’t.” A deep, familiar voice from behind her. Rhella remembered that she forgot to lock her door. “Who are you? What do you want?” Her voice radiates fear even when she tries to hide it. Especially in her current state that she cannot even summon an ember as magic had completely left her body, thanks to Leonardo Richards. ‘What if this is one of Maebh’s minions trying to kill me as I am now powerless?’ she thought.&nb
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“Rozelyn…” He muttered her name as if it was a sacred word, a prayer. “Roz…” “You really think that—never mind!” She jerked her head back to Thalia’s house and saw Rosette and Aruba waving at her, the latter was holding an umbrella. “Hush you two! You’re both already soaked in the rain!” “We’re fine, Aruba,” Rozelyn simply said then walked towards the house, without any umbrella. “Love quarrel, eh?” Aruba teasingly utter. Cyrill just glared at her, then glanced back at Rozelyn. The latter was given a towel
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“You didn’t know how happy I was when he was inside me, Roz,” said Rosette. “Yeah, I know.” Rozelyn’s sarcasm mode is turned on again. Rosette rolled her eyes, astonished to Rozelyn’s sudden shift in the mood. “Really? How much did I feel then?” She glared at her, eyes narrowing. “You’re very, very happy that you and your dear Leo have lasted for more than ten rounds.” “Rozelyn!” Thalia reprimanded. “It doesn’t mean you’re an adult, you’re allowed to be very green-minded!” “I’m not being a green-
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“It was a pity for a person…” Rozelyn spoke, eyes fixed on the blazing body of Grainne Perkins, “…to die, while knowing that you did everything to live—including the fact that you exchange your freedom for immortality granted by the Blood Rose only to be murdered by a psychotic witch that, heaven knows, how the hell she did that.” Cyrill patted her back, “The Heathens are hiding something, a secret weapon I suppose.” “Grainne was a cancer patient, and had lived for a decade more thanks to the blood rose.” She wiped her face, and then fixed her hair. “Just like Rosette,” said Cyrill. “Yes. Just like Rosette Richards…” “You have done everything you cou
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Roz was on the doorstep of Thalia’s home to visit Aruba when her phone rang. “Cy?” She breathed. “Roz, you have to come to the Fortress.” “Whe—” “Now!” Rozelyn wasted no time and headed back to her house. She immediately drove her newly bought car, thanks to Rosette’s gift. Speaking of Rosette, she saw her in one of the windows in the upstairs room of Thalia’s house when she turned around. “Rosette is probably sleeping in Thalia’s house—again.”&
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“You’re finally home, Leo.” Leo jerked his head and he saw her.It was the woman he loved, he cared, he fucked, and he had been looking for. Yet, why is she here in the walls of his very home? “How did you enter here, Rosette?” She sauntered towards him, finger tracing his muscular chest. “If there’s a will, there’s a way.” He smirked. Sensing the hotness in the room, he removed his shirt. His sweat-drenched chest didn’t stop Rosette from tracing her fingers. His beloved’s hand landed atop his manhood and he knew then. He knew she was craving for more. “We just have sex earlier, Rosette. I am not surprised you are hungry for more.” Rosette’s face briefly
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Cyrill’s heart was still beating fast even though he had already arrived at Vesta’s doorstep. When she called him on the phone, he sensed something was utterly wrong, something eerie; something that is going to happen unexpectedly. And Cyrill supposed it wasn’t a good one. “Vesta?” Cyrill then knocks three times, the perfect number when knocking. Not two or one, but three knocks. According to superstitions, when someone knocks once, it is doubtful if he or she is really a someone—a living person. When one knocks twice, it is said to be inviting a malevolent, unpleasant spirit within the house or building. Despite him being a Pasiphae werewolf, he still upholds and believes in superstitions. After all, there’s nothing wrong
