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Chapter 22
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2021-10-20 15:50:08Maebh leaned by the frosty glass window as she watches the Mullins’ jovial daughter play in the manor’s little courtyard.
“Maebh!”
The governess shrieked at her who’s now by the maid quarter’s threshold.
“Get us some food, you silly little girl! Little Ms. Ariadne Mullin needs her afternoon tea and sweets already.”
“But it’s still two in the afternoon. Her afternoon tea is four.”
The governess inched closer to her, index finger pointing callously to little Maebh who’s only wearing nothing but tattered sage dress. She was not even given a proper maid uniform as it will give a notion of a child labor. So, her employers—the Mullins—gave her Ariad
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“So, are you coming to my soiree or do you want me to cut off your manhood if you don’t attend?” Ludwig was flabbergasted. Not because of the voluptuous woman’s threat that she’ll cut off his velvet steel but because of the fact that she will be hosting a grandiose private party. It had been years since Maebh hosted a soiree in the Mullins Estate. “The soiree will be this coming Friday. Don’t forget to wear a nice, clean, outstanding tuxedo!” Maebh said then she curtsied towards the door after wearing the last piece of her clothes—her underwear.
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Ariadne Mullin was still haunted by the tragic and grotesque death of her governess—of her nanny. She never thought that a mere person could do such a brutal and violent thing. The ocherous light of the chandelier above was the only thing illuminating her pathway. The Mullin’s residence has its Victorian ambience despite her family being of Irish descent. It was an ordinary thing for her to spend the remaining hours of the night in their library, reading things pertaining to crime and possible things that may drive a killer to do such unlawful things to a person. She was walking in this dim-lighted hallway, with only herself and her shadow accompanying her in the dead of night.&nb
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His blade is so long and…sharp. The width and height of his groin is probably the biggest one her crevice has ever tasted. Rozelyn had never seen a velvet steel as huge as this. It’s twice bigger than that of Eoghan, to be frank. He’s definitely not lying that he was good. Not just good, he was utterly the best man in drilling a woman. ‘Perhaps that’s why this man is so sexy because he regularly exercises in bed…’ Rozelyn thought. Hans moaned from behind. It was music in her ears. Well, she probably forgot that she was being pounded by an Empath werewolf—by an entity that can manipulate emotions. “I wonder how many women you can
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The smell of eggs and bacon greeted her as she went down the stairs. All of them—the pack and the coven—are present in the lavish white rectangular table. "Good thing that you've woken up on your own, Nadeshiko," Hemera stated as she gestured for her to sit down next to Cyrill. Vesta, who was sitting on her right, grinned at her jovially and put some benedict eggs and well-fried bacon on her oval plate. 'Good timing for them to prepare a sumptuous simple breakfast. I'm craving a traditional English breakfast today, to be honest.' Rozelyn mused as she watched Vesta keep on putting pancakes and maple syrup on her plate. "Eat well, Miss Thaumaturge. You're gonna have a long day ahead," Vesta then winked at her as i
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This was the first time Rozelyn saw the entirety of Cyrill’s velvet-wrapped steel. His body was shimmering with sweat, making Rozelyn wholly quiver and waver on the inside. Electricity suddenly ran throughout her body; very much unusual for her to feel this kind of yearning towards her stepmom’s protégée. He brushed his serpent on her stomach. The heat of his groin was pretty much enough for Rozelyn’s crevice to produce a milky liquid. She was panicking—as well as perplexed. Perplexed on why Cyrill can easily show his carnal interests towards her. She was confused because throughout their years of being under one roof, she had never seen him wild and ferocious like this very moment. He pulled down the garment that was covering the skin of her milky abyss. Roz
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Romaine, Cyrill, and Rozelyn were just staring at the scarlet letter—the letter that contained an invitation from Maebh Mullin’s soiree to their luxurious estate. They just arrived from the Zadzisai residence when the scarlet-colored letter flabbergasted them by their doorstep. The three were, of course, somewhat bothered. They just witnessed one hell of an incident. Then now, they were invited for a luscious gathering, particularly from one of the people that the family was not-in-so-good-terms. “What now?” asked Rozelyn. “We’re invited for a reason. We will attend…for the sake of respect to the Mullin family as well,” Romaine replied in such a plain tone.
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Darkness seems to be her fortress, her abode. Hidden in the shadows, a woman—dressed in a sleeveless ebony-black dress—took a bite from that flesh that she was fiercely holding. It was just a quick and small bite to savor the raw virgin heart—enough to register the taste in her craving tongue and dry throat. The corpse of the heartless woman lies before her—literally heartless. By just one glance, one could tell that no single drop of blood could be harvested from the body. Not even organs as they are all, well, devoured by this wretched creature. The woman’s autumn-colored hair was shining amidst the pitch black darkness
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“You’re alright?” Though afraid and still shaking, the newly-awakened Rozelyn approached Cyrill. She asked him if he is alright, despite the fact that the lack of color and paleness in his face is vividly visible. Romaine was nowhere to be found. So, the four of them went to Avril’s recreational vehicle, parked just outside the iron gates of the Mullin’s estate. Cyrill fainted after eating the poor beagle, as if the spell cast within him had already dissipated. Luckily, Avril lent him his boxer shorts and plain white shirt since Cyrill’s clothes had been drenched in blood and filth. &nbs
Last Updated : 2021-11-10
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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
The Blood Rose Lady Chapter 68
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
