Blood Oath: Withered

Blood Oath: Withered

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing4h 29m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Apr 17, 2026
Every Sunrise has its cull. Where light blooms, darkness always seems to follow. Scarlett, a Magicless fae hybrid is sentenced to survive the elite halls of a ruthless magical academy-where bloodshed is law and monsters lurk behind every charm. When a forbidden romance with a ravenous ice dragon awakens a hunger buried deep within her, she's thrust into a web of obsession, prophecy and power. But while Xarion's love was written in blood and braille, Scarlett's heart burns for the lady in red; her malevolent Demoness professor. Beyond the vines, Floren, her cousin, scars over his father's ghost. To unveil the truth behind a murder cloaked in shadows, he infiltrates a military academy where loyalty is a blade and the past bleeds fresh. But vengeance comes at a cost-especially when the lieutenant he hunts is the same boy he swore to forget. Two souls bound by Blood and Ruin, One story written between mercy and massacre.
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In a world of those who have human and wolf blood, Ophelia is the daughter of a wolf hunter. There's just one thing that might cause trouble for that and that is Ophelia's growing relationship with a pack of wolves that live in the forest behind her house. Ophelia thought her life was going to be simple. Well, as simple as life could get when she just happened to be failing her job, her relationship and (the absolute bane of it all) mathematics. But oh, no, something far more deadly and sinister awaits Ophelia in the forest behind her home. Will she be able to discover how to save her new friends before something takes them from her forever? ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Werewolves in England? Yeah, apparently stranger things did happen. Much, much stranger than I had ever thought of before, but strange nonetheless. At first, I thought I had simply been imagining it. As soon as I got into bed and stared up at my ceiling, I pinched myself just to establish that I wasn't, in fact, dreaming. I wasn't dreaming. Thus, I had to accept what I had seen in the forest as the cold, hard, truth- make that the warm, fuzzy, truth. Werewolves were real. It was either that, or I was completely losing it.

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