Anthony Angel Novels & Stories

Anthony yelled over the alarm. “We’re not leaving her!” I screamed back, my fingers fumbling with the tight, wet knots. Angel’s head lolled against my arm. “He’s gone… they took him…” she mumbled, her voice thick. “Gabriel… they hurt him…” My blood ran cold. “Who? Angel, who did they take?” But she was fading, her consciousness slipping away. Anthony swore violently. He holstered his gun and pushed me aside. He pulled a small, razor-sharp knife from his boot and sawed through the ropes in two swift motions. Angel slumped forward, a dead weight.

I was just asking him if he's a priest and he retorted by asking me if I'm a prostitute. "I'm sorry but I'm a little bit lost here, what are you talking about?" I asked the man. "You wouldn't believe it but I just made $1000 for one client only. There's a weird priest inside that Abbey, he's willing to pay you money if you play along with his fetish. At first, I thought the priest was gay and he wants to have sex with me but then he just asked me to wear this ugly black cassock, he then cut my palm using his fucking teeth and sip my blood like he was so thirsty. I know it's fucking weird but I don't care anymore as long as I'm getting paid with it." The man told me and I don't know why but t

"What could that be? Amelia asked shivering. "The question is who could that be " Eric replied quiet unmoved by the gun shots. "It could be Derek, Samantos, Anna or anybody ". He took the fork and knife. He held the full chicken on one of the trays with the fork and cut it with the knife. He picked it with the knife into his mouth savoring every taste. "God please forgive me, holy Mart take control. Angel Micheal, son of God. I mean Angel Gabriel, the son of God, oh my fucking God, someone should just take control ". She was breathing heavily as she said the prayers.

And this feeling made it more piquant. Everything reminded him of how much of a careless host he was. Angel was too pure of a soul for him. He wasn't a good host. He wasn't a good protector. He wasn't a good son. He wasn't a good brother. He wasn't a good friend. He wasn't a good boyfriend. He wasn't a good lover.

growled Anthony, ignoring Rhone the stranger continued to lash flirty jabs at me, "Do you taste as sweet as you look?", Anthony bang his fists against his desk, "I SAID TO FUCKING LEAVE HER ALONE PETER ATKINS!" Even though Anthony's voice stood tall and strong and made me piss my pants a little, it had no effect on the man, he only smirked, blew me a kiss, and left. Who the fuck was that? And why did Anthony get so defensive?

Nolan: The moment the howls echoed, I was already shouting orders. “Alessandro, perimeter! Gamma team, north side! Move!” My voice cut through the chaos as warriors poured into the courtyard, shifting mid-stride, their snarls rising into the night. “One more thing that they would actually have the noble blood to actually give a warning.” Alessandro muttered under his breath as he looked at me. “I doubt the fact that this is their virtue, considering the fact that they are rogues, Alessandro.” I said, glaring at him before catching sight of Natalia.

He confessed that he had reported my account previously to prevent the video from being posted, insisting that only he should see it. Later, he transformed his account, with ten million followers, into a chronicle of our everyday romantic life. After completing his studies and graduating, Jared formally proposed to me. ...... Jared's POV. I've been smitten since the moment I laid eyes on Yvette. If anyone asked me what an angel looked like, I would point straight to her.

He would make it a better place for the unwanted and make a home for himself. Laurent was a stubborn Angel and he would make an even better Fallen.

he giggles. Muchie then lazily looks at his friend, sighing at the look on its face. His friend sure is the Angel of Death, no mercy at the souls in his hands. It even laughs sweetly like it didn't just take an innocent soul. Although the Angel of Death keeps a dangerous smile on his face pairing it with an innocent look, Muchie knows he was just a misguided kid. At his age of twelve, he was appointed to such title, to take lives while Muchie at eighteen is a level three guardian angel.

Angel shyly smiled at him. Genuine. Small. Warm. “I’ll say it until you get sick of it,” Angel whispered, fingers tightening behind Tony’s neck—pulling him a bit closer. “I’ll never get sick of it,” Tony answered immediately. Angel laughed softly then turned serious. He fully leaned down on Tony, pressing their foreheads together. “I love you.” The words were sweet. Soft. Certain. Solemn. Like a vow. “I love you Antonio Santa De Leones,” Angel continued like he was saying a spell.