Blade Daywalker Weapons Novels & Stories

The city lights of Valenfort burned bright against the suffocating dark like a gem tainted by blood. Beneath that glittering surface lay nameless alleys where the scent of iron and the echoes of screams intertwined into a symphony of hell. No one remembered the last time they saw a real sunrise for this city had long belonged to the night. Evelyn Cross , a fourth-generation vampire hunter of the secretive order known as The Order of the Thorn , was born in blood and sworn to die for her mission. She had once watched her father torn apart by a pureblood vampire, a creature so fearsome that humans dared only whisper its name in prayer. Since that day, Evelyn lived like a blade cold, unfeeling, and driven by the hunt. Until she met Lucien Draven , the Blood King of Valenfort who ruled the shadows with a calm smile and eyes that could stop a heartbeat. Lucien did not kill Evelyn upon their first encounter. Instead, he saved her from the very comrades who had betrayed her. A vampire saving a hunter such a thing had never happened in the history of either world. Evelyn despised him… yet could not kill him. Lucien desired her… yet knew his love was her death sentence. In Valenfort, a war of blood is rising. The ancient vampire houses are clawing for dominance, while the hunters’ order fractures under betrayal and deceit. Amidst gunfire, betrayal, and desire, Blood War is not merely a battle between species but between the heart and fate itself. “In the world of darkness, truth isn’t written in ink… but in blood.”

On the day my husband married my younger sister, I once again heard the divine message from the Astral Sanctuary: if I sever all ties to the mortal world within three days, I can reclaim the astral power I relinquished and return to the Astral Sanctuary. On the first day, I publicly cut my hair to symbolize the severing of love and signed the separation letter, ending my three-year marriage to the man I once loved. Holding my sister in his arms, he looked at me with disdain. His words dripped with mockery as he called me petty and jealous, claiming that sparing me the title of an equal wife had been his greatest act of kindness. On the second day, I drove a blade into myself six times, severing my bond with my cherished elder brother. He stood by, cold and unfeeling, sneering that I was nothing more than a desperate fool, resorting to theatrics to compete for his affection—a devotion he reserved entirely for my sister. On the third day, I clenched my teeth and carved through my own flesh and bone, severing my connection to the parents who had given me life. Enraged, they called me ungrateful and declared I was unworthy—not just of being their daughter, but even of being compared to my perfect sister. In the end, I succumbed to exhaustion and blood loss. My spirit ascended to the Astral Sanctuary, where I reclaimed my true identity as an Astral Maiden. When my family discovered my lifeless body left behind in the mortal realm, they all descended into madness.

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.

Thirty years after the apocalypse, the world belongs to darkness. When a failed climate weapon shattered Earth’s atmosphere, sunlight became lethal. Entire cities burned beneath toxic ultraviolet storms while humanity fled underground into fortress-cities powered by artificial UV towers. Above the surface, civilization rotted beneath snow, ash, and endless night. And the vampires emerged. Seraphine Ward (Sera) grew up hating them. A hunter from the human city of Zelios, Sera is sharp-tongued, reckless, and fueled almost entirely by anger after vampires destroyed her childhood settlement years ago. He isentirely too amused by the hunter who immediately tries to stab him through the throat. Unfortunately, it barely slows him down. Their first meeting should have ended in bloodshed. Instead, it begins an uneasy alliance neither of them wants. When Zelios’ UV towers begin failing, Sera is forced to travel through the deadly wastelands beyond civilization in search of an abandoned underground laboratory rumored to contain pre-apocalypse atmospheric research capable of restoring sunlight. Husen claims he knows where it is. And Husen, a monster feared even among immortals, becomes increasingly unstable around Sera. Because her blood is different. Not sweeter. Not rare. Before the apocalypse, Zelios scientists secretly experimented on unborn children using altered vampire blood in desperate attempts to engineer immunity against blood sickness and ultraviolet radiation. Sera was one of the few surviving subjects. Her blood isn’t natural. She was created. And Zelios knew. Once Zelios discovers what her blood can do, its leaders betray her immediately, planning to drain and replicate her blood to create biological weapons and controlled vampire armies. Husen responds exactly as expected. Violently. As war erupts between humans and vampires, Sera and Husen journey through ruined cities while their hatred slowly turns into obsession, intimacy, and dangerous love.

Bellatrix Sinclair, an 18-year-old weapons prodigy that despises werewolves for destroying her family has been secretly planning to join the human rebellion. However, she is forced into the Mate Selection Process and matched with Lazarus De Loughrey, the ruthless Werewolf King obsessed with claiming her. He shouldn't want her and she should hate him but they cannot resist each other. It's a twisted connection, entirely physical because all I am is his slave. My heart should belong to my best friend Emmett, a human. Atleast the guilt of betrayal wouldn't be eating away at my insides. ___________________________ “Yes please.” She begs. “Then fucking let me in.” I growled, this fury exploding with vengeance. I wanted to destroy her pussy. It was maddening, it was sickening, it was barbaric. But I never claimed to be saint. “Here that baby, that’s the sound of your greedy pussy sucking on my cock. Give me more, drench me.” “Lazarus.” She moans painfully, “Please let me come.” I’m doused in gasoline and set alight, sweat coats my skin as I pound into her faster and harder. I’m definitely hurting her, “Wanna come?” I rasped, “Not until I say so.” Pressing my lips onto hers, pushing my tongue into her mouth until I feel the sweetness of hers. The kiss is sloppy and filthy. She cries as I drive my cock into her, the intensity too much to handle, sweet tears sliding onto her cheeks. “Fuck yes.” I smile sadistically, licking her tears. “Cry for me Ma Cherie.” “Please, please let me come My King.” She pleads. “Say it again.” Lightening shooting down my spine as she begged, “My King, please let me come. I’ll be good.” I chuckled, “Try your luck to kill me Ma Cherie, I dare you.”

After I lost the baby, I gave up everything my mate, Alpha Rhydian, hated. I stopped using our bond to sense where he was. I could sleep soundly even when he didn't come back to our bedroom all night. I didn't even tell him when a rogue's silver blade sliced my arm during a border skirmish. The pack doctor told me to notify my family. I just answered calmly, "I don't have a family." The doctor recognized me. "You're the Luna. Alpha Rhydian is at headquarters. Should I inform him?" I shook my head gently. "No, don't." But half an hour later, Rhydian came anyway. His tall frame cast a shadow over me, his voice ice-cold. "You're hurt. Why didn't you call me through the mind link?" I lowered my eyes. "It's just a scratch. No need to bother the Alpha." A low growl rumbled in his chest. The air crackled with his fury. He was about to speak when a guard whispered outside the door, "The Alpha cares so much for Isla. She just pricked her finger on a rose thorn, and he gave her the pack's most precious moonlight herb." I saw his jaw clench. His gray-blue eyes shot to me, searching for the jealous rage I always used to show. I gave him nothing. Not even a blink. I just leaned back against the cheap hospital pillows and closed my eyes. But Rhydian's composure finally shattered.

"Get on your knees, wolfless freak, or I will break your legs myself." In the brutal hierarchy of the Blue Claw pack, Betty is a biological anomaly—the top warrior who cannot shift, a protector with no beast inside her. With her twentieth birthday ticking down to midnight, her own parents have consented to her public rejection and permanent exile as a rogue. She has exactly twenty-four hours of stolen freedom left before she is cast out into the wilderness to be hunted. But the northern forests don't just hold exile; they hold the Lycans—predatory kings ruling through iron claws, suffocating dominance, and a scent of burnt ozone and raw power. When Prince Adriel crosses the border, his crushing aura forces every alpha to their knees, yet it only makes the dormant royalty hidden beneath Betty's skin snap awake. She is the ultimate survivor, but matching the gaze of the Alpha of Alphas is a death sentence in itself. Desperate to escape her pack's death warrant, Betty entangles herself with the royal court, stumbling into a dangerous loophole: an artificial link forged by a high coven. This fake bond offers a transactional sanctuary—she gets a shield from her executioners, and the Lycan prince gets a chosen mate to claim before his kingdom. But this substitute union is a beautiful trap; a human or shiftless wolf taking a royal mark risks having the raw power burn her veins from the inside out. If Betty yields to the intoxicating heat of the prince who bought her safety, the psychological stakes are lethal. When a vengeful Madeline unleashes a silver blade and issues a challenge to the death, Betty’s purple-eyed wolf suddenly seizes control and accepts...

My sister Isolde and I used to be human. The twin vampire princes, Caelum and Dorian, turned us and married us. The entire vampire world celebrated. Two human sisters, personally turned by the Crown Princes? It was the highest honor a mortal could receive. We believed we were loved. We were fools. Five months into my pregnancy, I was attacked by a group of exiled vampires in the forest beyond our territory. I called Caelum nine times. He didn’t pick up. The exiles circled me, cutting into my arms and legs with blades that burned. Pain tore through my body. I called a tenth time. This time, Caelum’s cold voice came through: “Haven’t you had enough? Vivienne is being tracked by hunters. Stop bothering me.” Vivienne was the human girl that both princes truly loved. The one who had refused to be turned. With nothing to stop them now, the exiles closed in. Their leader drove a blade into my stomach. I watched the light leave my body from the inside out, and felt my unborn child die. When I was close to death, my sister Isolde found me and fought the exiles off. But there were too many. Isolde was badly wounded. She called her husband Dorian for help. All she got was: “Looking for Vivienne. Don’t bother me.” Isolde carried me and ran. A storm hit and we were caught in the open at dawn—deadly for wounded vampires. The border patrol found us just in time. We barely survived. When I woke up in the infirmary, my first thought was simple: Sever the bond.

Finish the mission, Seven, or we finish your sister." My handler's voice is static in my ear. Clinical. My sister's heartbeat still echoes from this morning's audio clip, steady, for now. Across the Volkov's gilded ballroom, my three targets watch me with possessive hunger. Alexei, whose brutal hands lift my chin like I'm something precious. Dimitri, who counts my lies like other men count coins. Nikolai, whose kindness is the most dangerous weapon of all, because it's the first thing that cracked my programming. I was engineered for this. Genetically modified to be immune to their mate bond, sculpted into the perfect weapon to destroy the most dangerous werewolf mafia family in Russia. Six months to make them love me. Six months to kill them. My immunity is failing. I feel it when Nikolai's touch doesn't repulse me. When Dimitri's suspicion feels like concern. When Alexei's cruelty looks more like pain. The bond I was supposed to fake is stitching itself into my bones, real and terrifying. Now my handlers want the kill. My sister's life for theirs. But the man who created me is their uncle. This isn't a mission, it's an eighty-year revenge, and I'm the blade he sharpened to cut his own bloodline. They think they've claimed their fated Luna. I'm carrying the knife that could end them. And I'm not sure which is sharper anymore:the silver in my sleeve, or the hope in my chest that maybe, just maybe, I could belong to them instead of my creators.

At a time of war and hate, Alpha Diego put his life and that of his pack in danger when he abducted and eventually fell in love with the Luna of a rival pack: the Blackfur pack. Without a thought of the consequences, Diego makes Kyra his Luna after gruesomely murdering her mate and Alpha of the Blackfur pack. Kyra, encumbered with grief for her dead mate decides to redeem her defeated pack, but she was only human and without any special abilities. Knowing how much Diego loved her, Kyra decides to use it to her advantage; making him completely trust her. Diego fell without a doubt, stubbornly kicking off his Beta, Zayr's disagreement concerning his sudden faith in her. It took only a short time for Kyra to get Diego to tell her the secret of his Pack's continuous victory. The Syria sword. A death gift from his father was the secret of the abrupt steady victory of the crystal red moon pack. One reckless trust led to betrayal and the brutal destruction of the crystal Redmoon pack, with the Syria sword thrust into the chest of Alpha Diego by the one he trusts, instantly placing a sacred curse on him. Due to the curse, Diego evolved into a demon Alpha. His strength; limitless, His heart; icy and dark, and his only intention; to get rid of the one who betrayed him. Only then, will he succumb willingly to the nothingness that threateningly accompanied him, ogling for his life. For more than twenty years, with the blade still buried under his skin, Diego fiercely sought Kyra, to kill her in the cruelest way possible; notwithstanding, she was his first love. Now, his hatred for her was thicker than the love he once had for her, or so he thought. ...