7 Archon Novels & Stories

” Noticing that I haven’t even made an attempt to speak or even move -since I was practically unable to even breathe anymore- she only continued, “Ookaaay, first things first,” “In case you were wondering, the reason why Azrael isn’t a fallen is that he’s...Well let’s just say he’s not your “regular” Archangel like the others, since he’s one of The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse and all that shit... And since his grace is practically bound to my soul...Uh...let’s just say that as long as I’m alive, he’s...He will still be his...usual self...” Even though that last sentence left me feeling somewhat confused -mostly by the way she so evasively explained it- I however chose to mainly focus on

Until the moment he was allowed to leave. Until the moment he killed and killed humans. Until he saw her. Then, without emotions, without love or hope of still being able to live next to her, Vraxlon, sin of lust and consort of the queen of hell, raised his sword and attacked. He killed everyone on his way. He wounded his infernal brothers, he wounded the archangels who stood before him, and when he came close to the queen, the smile on his lips was malicious. But not the kind she was used to receiving from him.

He repeated the same question just to have the answer. “Yes, I am already here. How is the city?” Amino asked as he breathed. “Pretty good. I’m planning to recruit some archangels to bless this country.” He said uncomfortably close next to Amino. “You want to do what now?” There’s a hint of mockery in that sentence. “Recruit some archangels.” He said, patiently. Amino emitted a sharp back of laughter, shoulders trembling. “Archangels,” he repeated, every last one of his clean teeth visible as he grinned playfully. “You want to recruit some archangels now?”

“The Archer Legacy was passed down to me. I am the prophesized Slayer.” It was silent. Her eyes swept around waiting for the first lycan to react. When the reactions erupt, the numbness and pain shot through her and she could not breathe to utter a response to the series of questions. No, all she could see was Theodavian rising to his feet and making his way out of the Great Hall.

She finished bandaging a wolf's arm and gestured for us to follow her to a private room. Once the door was closed, she pulled out her own tablet showing a more detailed version of Lucas's diagram. "There are three Archons overseeing North American operations. Archon Frost handles the northern territories, Canada down through Montana. Archon Cinder handles the south, Texas through Florida. And Archon Shade handles the central corridor, basically everything in between." "Which one is in charge of the facility that has Hazel?" Mary asked.

He moved with the same deliberate, unhurried pace. Back at his sedan, he stripped off his outer layers and placed them in a vacuum-sealed bag. He wiped his hands with alcohol, the sting a reminder of the night’s work. He drove away just as the first morning commuters began to wake up in the valley below, blissfully unaware that the "Unchained" world was beginning to unravel. Silas Thorne was no longer just a ghost watching from a tower. He was a force of nature, a misanthropic architect who had just laid the foundation for a total collapse.

Hunter growled lowly. "He's so f*cking strong. All of you guys are against him, the king, and all the other packs, and yet Alonso is alive, successfully hiding and planning a massacre. That man is inhuman. He won't stop until he gets what he wants and his ambition is f*cking crazy." Lennox stated the obvious. It was true that the werewolf race had never come across such a strong threat that they still couldn't eliminate. Even after losing a strong pack like Draken's. Alonso still stood strong prowling towards his goal. It was f*cking intimidating.

Things were falling into place. Since it took Arion four thousand years to even touch Azura, it was clear that their plan was flawed. I just hoped that there was more we could learn. Suddenly things sped up until they stopped again, except this time Little Cyran wasn’t so little anymore. He was now eighteen and I knew it wouldn’t be long until Father died, and he became King.

“I knew it! Let’s go back!” “Huh? Don’t! Azariah is already there!” Aliona said. “Ember, come on. We need to follow—” “Apollo, how old are you?” “27,” he answered. “What about Azariah?” “She’s 24,” Aliona answered. The impatience was on her face. “Apollo, come on.” “Wait!” I said. I faced Apollo. “You are older than Azariah, but why do you let her do something she was not allowed to do?”

The last item inspected was the one I was most familiar with–the star-shaped device that had been used to pull my soul back across the void to anchor it to my body. I shivered, seeing its floppy organic arms uselessly spiraling out from the wide teeth of its mechanical core. A sudden wind blasted us from behind as the Archon stood, his gasp audible as his eyes flashed, and he takes a shaky but solid step forward. The ancient drake bellowed, and Everly cringed as he rattled off something that left Orion confused and the liaison red-faced and nervous. “The Archon has asked all of you to be removed to separate quarters to await interrogation.”