So, I finally found out how to see where a fiction is ranked. Took me some durr moments haha. I am shocked and happy to say that Blood Born, at this time, is ranked 94! I can honestly not believe it. I know that seems bad, but to me it's amazing. Top 100! I'm a happy camper. As you all know, I could not do that, or this story without your support.

It's why I always ask for comments, I don't mind if it's criticism, if I have not stated this before. I enjoy that. Helps me improve as a writer, and allows me to pop out chapters in increased quality for all of you!

Went off tangent there a bit, however I wished to thank you all again. For waiting so patiently for this story to continue. I will probably take longer to pop chapters out of Blood Born for a bit still, same with Olympus, but they will be regular, and with the 2-4 day limit I set before.

I wish it could be every day, but I simply don't have the time available to do that. I am sorry. >.<

But much love! Also, I read a comment in the ratings that made me smile today, first new comment there in a while. He fears I will become akin to George R Martin, I wish I could say that won't be true, but I can't. Nor will I say it will be true. It's a surprise. I fully understand you needing to hide away from my story when it happens. I may have to as well. I write these characters, I give them life, and love them. ^.^ I'm evil mwuahhahah

I digress, here is Chapter ! of Volume two, working on the title still.

Rage

Laughter echoed out from the small glade, the single tree next to a small pond containing a multitude of small golden fish all it consisted of. The laughter was from my pet, Saphiria, who was splashing in the water trying to catch a small fish.

She wore a white dress, fitted to her small frame, with floral patterns decorating the left side from hem to shoulder, in a multitude of colors, and variations of fauna.

It suited her personality, currently at least. In the month following the battle between the Beastmen, and my small Pride along with the cats, she had grown more confident, and child like.

I attributed this to her continued security, and lacking abuse. The food had helped her as well. She was thicker, no longer the skin and bone rag doll I had first claimed as mine. She had meat on her bones, and while lanky, was very charming in her own way.

Around three feet in height, she had grown a bit with regular care, and her adorable quirk of clinging to me when she was being petulant to try and get her way. Her platinum blond hair, tail and ears included, along with the tiger stripes.

Yes, the once black tiger stripes now the color of a deep scarlet red. I frowned as she frolocked as I contemplated that. We had run tests, rather I had. She enjoyed rapid regeneration, quicker than any of my Prides, or my own. Her speed was also on par with us now.

She also appeared to be growing at an elevated rate. A side product of me mucking around with her genetics to heal her? Or a curse the Blood Father had thrown into the mix to punish me for ruining his deep set plans. She had the body of an eight year old now, as opposed to the six she had just turned.

It seemed to please her however, so I let it go for now. But thinking of the Blood father has soured my mood somewhat. His last words, I was his progeny by blood. I did understand the concept, thanks to a conversation with Saphiria regarding what the hell a mommy, and daddy were. But did not understand the reasoning.

He had his plans, and i had thrown a wrench in them in regards to myself. But I highly doubted it stopped them at all. There had even been word of forces moving all along the continent. The Beastmen fortified, while the other nations readied for war.

It was all rumor of course, and far from the worries of those in this fortress whose main purpose was to safeguard the main entrance into the Draconian Empire from the Beastmen alone.

But our current Master, Lord Dravon, would likely have my Pride move toward another front someday soon. I felt it in my bones after all. War was coming to the Continent. It was like a sixth sense, a song that wouldn't leave the mind. Always there, in the background playing, and reminding you of what you craved.

Myself, and those I led, had grown weary of the peace along the border. Even with the minor skirmish here and there over foolish things, it was not enough to wet our lust for true combat.

But we had survived it, all the while tensions grew in my Pride. We needed an outlet for our natural aggression, as such I had allowed them all to fight in controlled spars. This held the clear understanding of no deaths, or punishment would be met out.

It was a bandaid solution however, and I knew this. A giggle turned me from my thoughts, and I looked to see Saphiria had captured one of the tiny golden fish in her palms and was watching it swim in the cupped water. No doubt tickling her somewhat as it tried to flee.

Saphiria, I had gained her with the intent to harm her, her entire remaining years. Instead she had grown to become an integral part to many of the changes that had assaulted my psyche. I had contemplated killing her at one point, to rid myself of these troublesome feelings, these weaknesses.

Now however, I cannot see my life without this small bundle of joy. Even with the horrors, and pain this untrained mind had endured, she had managed to grow back into a childlike wonder.

I envied this, because while I was the same age, I would never be able to experience it. The one thing I could compare to her constant state of mind was the briefest of moments when I first left that Pit.

One of the changes she had led me toward finally accepting, was currently sitting beside me and regarding her with a cold detachment. Envy, one of my three mates, hated Saphiria. From what I have gathered this is because only the child ever earned my time without me putting a guard up, and my smile.

I could not fathom this, and was confused by the females I slept with each night. But they had learned, the hard way, to never threaten what I claimed. Including each other.

Envy herself was by far the most attractive of my mates. From her waist length blue-green hair, so like the ocean I had seen in picture books Saphiria had begun to collect. It was soft as silk to the touch, and felt like a baby birds newly dried feathers in terms of softness.

The slender shoulders that belied the extreme strength within her arms. Covered in supple, soft toned muscle with not a trace of body fat. The scars that ran down her back, a testament to the pain we faced in the Pit, to her ample bust. When cupping one of her breasts, it overflowed in my hand and poured out through my fingers and over. Her perfectly round rear, to the legs that did not seem to end. The flowed flawlessly into her ass, and down to her feet.

Plump gently thighs with just the right amount of firmness. Currently she wore the Black leather armor all of my Pridelings wore, aside from the Red Guard, and it was form fitting to say the least.

Her seemingly detached eyes, amber in color like with all of our people, showed an aloofness to the world. As though she were above it. I believe I heard some of the cats refer to her as an Ice Queen. I found it somewhat fitting. She sported a newer scar on her neck, the results of our constant mating. I'd marked her, and the others, as mine.

It was in our nature to be territorial, and claim what we believed ours after all.

I was forced to growl softly at her when her eyes hardened upon seeing Saphiria's collar, I had changed it to be a soft blue dyed leather, with proper floral patterns carved into it (A.N She likes flowers.)

I watched my Envy collect herself and turn to look away from the child, before getting up to leave. I snorted slightly. I could not truly say I cared for her, or Bitter and Hate. But I desired them, wanted them, and had claimed them. They were mine, and they would only ever be free when I died, or they managed to defeat me.

They seemed to hold no inclination of wanting such, they hated Saphiria for their reasons, and chief among them, though they may deny it, was our people's natural instinct to fight anything that threatened to take what we had claimed as ours.

It was amusing to watch, honestly, though Forge disliked it when River had attempted to rip the head off of a female cat that looked a little too long at him a few days ago. Forge loved it, and he didn't fool me, the issue for him is that his mate was more open, and their relationship far more equal than mine with my three mates.

River also had the option of denying him sexual release. Mine did not. I took them when I wished, where I wished. They didn't bother fighting it, and enjoyed it once their shock had ended.

I had taken great pleasure in causing Hellen, the Lord of Tridants wife, to become flabergasted when she walked to the glade and saw my three mates, naked and exhausted, laying on the ground covered in sweat and body fluids, while I stood panting, and still ready for more.

I'd developed a twisted sense of humour regarding Hellen, and had told her if she wished to join, Fredrick might allow her. I'd been called many names, but none as creative as that day.

Fredrick had spoken to me later that night and requested I stop doing so. This led to an odd, and shaky truce between his wife and I. I hated her, and feared her for the odd ability she had to make me unable to move. She hated me for whatever reasons she had. I didn't bother trying to understand them. I simply made every attempt to avoid her, and keep her from my Saphiria.

The night after the battle, when she had made her cry, had been a breaking point in that regard for me. Only I was allowed to harm my pet, and I would likely kill Hellen one day for doing so. But until that day, we held a truce.

"Master?" I was shaken from my thoughts by the soft, lyrical, voice of my pet and her hand on my forehead as if checking for something. I frowned at her a bit, and saw her little cheeks puff out. Her big blue eyes looked stubborn as well. Just what did she have on her mind?

"Yes?" I asked her.

"Your forehead is hot, are you sick?" She seemed genuinely worried, and I tilted my head to the side before pull her to sit in my lap, and turning her around. Chuckling lightly as I did so.

"My kind do not get sick, like others. It's something you likely gained from what was done to you, Pet." I felt her little body sigh and she snuggled into me, laying her head on my bicep and watching the birds flit around in the glad, every now and then pointing at the water as the fist jumped up to catch a bug or two.

She was indeed the single reason I likely remained sane, as well as kept even slightly in touch with these things called emotions. I still contemplated killing her from time to time, however i wished to explore what these were fully. It was something denied me, and I wished to experience whatever I could, in whatever capacity I could while still bound by my chains.

I stroked Saphirias soft hair, and she snuggled into my lap more. For now it was worth the weakness this child instilled in me, so much so I nearly threw my life away trying to save her from Uram. True, instinct and possession played their part, however it still remained a weakness to throw myself into such danger alone, even while enraged.

That brought me to the addition in my mind. 'Master, you have need of me?' I sent a negative response toward my Blood Familiar, Behemoth.

The presence in my mind, a constant pressure that reassured me to a degree for some reason.

I had learned much from the creature. Mostly in regards on how to use my blood to corrupt, consume, and control someone's body, to blow them up, or create pale imitations of the Blood Forged weapons my Pride wielded.

He had been allowed, yes allowed, to inform me of the easier method of creating weapons from my blood. But the moment I stopped focusing it turned to simple blood. It did not retain power, or shape without focus.

It frustrated me, however Behemoth had informed me that because of the blood bond of paternity between the Blood Father and I, his own Familiar was able to directly influence knowledge that Behemoth could access fully. This was mostly because he had been awakened too soon.

He was still not the strength required of a newborn Familiar to even begin to access the basic power inherent within my unique bloodline.

True, I had learned that each Prideling held a small fragment of the bloodline traits of the Blood Father due to how he brought them back, but through breeding programs as well as the original ones changed abilities, they created more unique and varied bloodline branches that separated from the main tree. Apparently that was the goal as well.

The power inherent within the Blood Father's bloodline was a bit to unique, and powerful to have widespread. I imagined he had purposefully ensured this by diluting the power he placed within all but the Ten upon rebuilding the Prideling race.

It had been a literal plethora of information thrust upon my mind when behemoth had awoken from his hibernation, after absorbing the power of the dead he devoured.

The 'brothers' I had, both older than I, could not be seen through the blood link by Behemoth either. He could garner their general location, one was in the human, dwarf, and elf nation. While the second was in the far North. Their was another, weak feeling one out far to the East. Well beyond the one in the Alliance Domain.

It...felt wrong, different, from what little Behemoth could pick up. It frightened me, almost as much as the Blood Father had. It sent something primal shivering down my spine when I felt it through behemoth; before it was shut down utterly.

It was ancient, so old...I shook my head, changing my thoughts from that. I looked down at Saphiria, I was still petting her, and she had fallen asleep.

I let a small smile play along my lips, before gently laying her in the grass beside me. I rose, and went to the water. Reaching it, I bent down and took some water in my palm to drink.

I regarded my own reflection as I did. Shoulder length Silver hair, it truly looked like pure silver. My amber eyes were stern, unrelenting, and showed disgust in their depths. My skin had grown from the pale shadow to a grey-black color and seemed to continue darkening as time went by.

It was proportional to the strength I gained after practicing my Void essence. My chest was bare, I wore only leather leggings. My arms, chest, shoulders, neck. Not a part of me was free of the signs of my five years of life. Almost every inch of me was covered in scars, large and small. Most of the larger ones were in my stomach. I got impaled far too often.

My arms held hundreds of small ones, thin white lines that were in exact contrast to the ever darkening color of my skin.My long, elegant fingers, things I had been informed looked like they belonged on a pianist, were tipped with claws that were around two inches long, and extremely thick.

The same claws were on my toes. My face was angular, full of shadows, and mystery thanks to my skin coloration at the moment. Few scars were there, the most obvious one was on my chin. A slightly hawk like nose, waspish, would be the best description for overall description I suppose.

I was attractive, according to my Mates. Though personally I did not see it. Could I use it as a weapon? Time would tell in that regard.

I took one more drink of water, before turning rising to turn toward Saphiria. I halted however, when I looked at the sky. To the East, Toward the Draconian Empire, a massive cloud had begun to form. You could see the peak of the mountain that was the seat of the Draconian power, where Lord Dravon reigned in Luxio's stead. It was truly just a very dark haze, and showed how truly massive that mountain was as were were a good four days travel from it.

It felt ominous, and I regarded it a moment before turning to pick up my pet and take her to our room.

As I walked back, I contemplated what the Blood Father would send, his rewards had yet to arrive after all. It made me feel relieved that perhaps he had forgotten, but something told me it would arrive soon.

Narrative

*Rumble* *Rumble* Crack* a boulder crashed within the mountain that showed itself as the seat of power for the Draconian Empire.

The reigning Regent, Lord Dravon, was visibly shaken, and rushing around issuing orders left and right. Fear evident within his stance, and actions.

The reason he was afraid? Deep within the bowels of the mountain slumbered one of the last True Dragons, and the Queen of the Draconians. An ancient that had survived Millinia where her siblings, and offspring had not. Something that could be called akin to a God in their world.

She was waking up, centuries ahead of schedule. Her hibernation had been ended, the same power sent out by the young Pridleing that awoke the Mad king, had called her from her slumber. A being so ancient that she slept for centuries at a time to keep sane from boredom, and been allowed to feel something different from a youth that could not control how his power was released.

Within the subconscious of her mind, it was as if a flicker of curiosity had been lit. It was enough, and now she was waking. But her waking was never gentle. She was a being of massive scale, easily half a mile long, with a wingspan of at least a mile. An ancient dragon, bursting with power, and now Lord Dravon needed to rush to prepare for her arrival, and keep the mountain from crumbling under the weight of her power awakening.

The Blood Father

The soft whimper of a female could be heard from the left. I turned and regarded her. A female form, red tinged skin with a tail, and horns growing from her head. The succubus Myria, ambassador to the Falknir Demons and the Draconians.

I smiled at her, watching her flinch in fear as I whipped the whip clear of blood and set it down. "You know, Little Demon, thanks to you I have been able to destabilize the Falknir, manipulate Damocles, and ensure that War re-ignited between the Draconians, and your tribe.

Not only that, I feel that massive bitch waking up. It'll take some time, enough for me to be able to hide what has been done. Never play with an Ancient unless you know you can win, remember that." I was speaking conversationally, she was going to die so there was no need for her to remember.

I heard her whimper again, her once beautiful body was little more than a husk now. Weeks under my tender care had extracted everything I wished, and Hawk had been able to, with Raven's aid, ensure no one learned that the lovely Succubus' was my torture victim.

I growled lightly, and rested my hand against the side of her neck, regarding her a moment. I stroked her skin almost lovingly as I contemplated this turn of events. The Dragon was early, far to early, had my whelps unguided call done it? Not likely. His power was not that different from my own. It should hold no curiosity for her.

Gripped Myria's neck, I squeezed tightly, slowly increased the pressure and enjoying the feel of her body struggling so weakly against my hand as I crushed her windpipe, and extinguished her life in a drawn out manner. Allowing her a breath every ten seconds or so, increasing it as I did to increase her pain.

'Why was she waking?' I wondered, hearing a gasp of breath as she inhaled before I squeezed again. This time not allowed her to breath, and feeling her life slowly ebb away.

IF she wa waking, then no doubt a few of the other, younger, Dragons would wake as well. There were, at most, twelve Dragons left in the world. Hunted to extinction almost, and by their own kind at that. Killing each other for pride, and greed.

Luxio was a different matter, she changed things. I could not fight her without a plan, and I would have to in time. Unless I threw my progeny at her of course. I'm Sure Christopher will come running when he hears of all the events, and rumors surrounding the "Battle of the Bulwark. " always the predictable crazed man.

He'd assume it was me, I rather looked forward to the report of him meeting Rage. But back to Luxio, she was the Queen of the Draconian, their Mother for all intents and purposes. She'd forced several of her hatchlings to mate with humanity and create them over centuries to see if she could.

It gave her what others of her kind lacked, defenders. It was one of the reasons she was even still alive.

Not she was a power unto herself however. I'll end up needing to speak with her, I know she will call me. And through me, or Lord Dravon rather, Rage. I sighed, and allowed the limp body of Myria to fall to the ground. At least it was none of the others, I did not need the distraction of more ancient powers waking up.

Here you are my lovelies! I have decided that over the course of the next few chapters, I will slowly introduce some of the ancients that are waking. Though through narratives only as Rage has not met them, and I am still fleshing them out fully.

I honestly hope you enjoy the way I do it. If not, please let me know. I can always change it if prefered. It also depends on my mood I fear, however I strive to please you all. ^.^

As I said before, at this time the story is ranked 94. I am so damn happy! Haha, I can't get over it. Love you all for making that happen, and more than that, for enjoying my story.

This chapter was more a fleshing, and stage setting for events that will be coming, and so will the next few chapters. I'll have a few POV changes, and interesting events occur over the course of the next 5 chapters before it gets down to the nit and gritty stuff of WAR! ^.^

Also, you that enjoy this story will be happy to know that the Storyboard is finished, and at a rough guess this volume will have damn near 50 chapters! Woot woot! hehe.

As always, much love and cookies, and please Rate, Follow, and Comment.