Ao No Exorcist Shura Kirigakure Novels & Stories

“Confessions Of An Exorcist” Mason Woods is a 40 year old multimillionaire who owns Woods Travel Safe, an airline company in New York City. He lives in New York City with his three-months pregnant wife; Victoria Woods who is a cardiac surgeon and earns a good pay, his two daughters; Audrey Woods and Leslie Woods, ages eight and four respectively. A meeting with a Chinese contractor drags out longer than anticipated and causes him to miss his daughter’s fourth birthday party. Mason Woods comes out of the meeting to see series of calls from his wife. He comes back home and offers to take the family out to celebrate Leslie’s birthday- an attempt to make up for his absent.On their way to a recre

Gabriel Thorne was seventeen when he met his fated mate across a burning packhouse during a sanctioned werewolf purge. The moment their eyes locked, the mate bond snapped into place with devastating clarity. Dominic Ashford, the youngest billionaire Alpha in North America, rejected him instantly and publicly, shattering Gabriel's world with five brutal words: "I don't have a mate." Five years later, Gabriel has been cast out from the Holy Order, disowned by his exorcist family, and is barely surviving as a paranormal investigator when catastrophe strikes. His father is dying from a curse that can only be broken by Alpha blood willingly given. Gabriel must return to the pack territory he was

My dad has died in a car crash when I'm seven years old. So, my mom marries her first love, Robert Hayes, and integrates me into his family. During the first meal with my new family, Robert announces a newly instated family rule. "From now on, we have to split the bills in this family." Once I eat a piece of steak, Robert tells me to pay him 300 dollars for the meal. I just look at my stepsister, Harper Hayes, who's digging into her meal happily. "Harper ate steak as well. Why didn't you ask her to pay you back, Dad?" "That's because Harper's my biological daughter. I love her, and she has the bloodline privileges," Robert answers. Then, I glance at Mom. So, Robert adds, "Your mom is

"I woke up in the villainess's bed, but the real nightmare was in my bathtub: a bleeding, unconscious Lycan King. In the original novel, Scarlett Thorne—the woman I’ve now become—claims this amnesiac beast as her fiancé to secure her power. Three months later, when his memories return, he tears her limb from limb. To survive, I must change the script. I’ll nurse him back to health under a fake identity, keep my distance, and disappear before he remembers who he truly is. But as the full moon approaches, the 'tame' man in my basement begins to hunt me with a gaze that is anything but forgetful. He's supposed to be my death sentence. Why does his touch feel like a soul-binding command

I was reborn back to 1975, when the child in my womb was three months old. I did not tell anyone and quietly had an abortion. However, I still wrapped cotton around my belly every day, pretending the baby was still there. In my past life, my husband Declan Huxley's childhood sweetheart Jane Patton and I gave birth on the same day. She had a healthy, ordinary baby boy. But my child looked nothing like us—he was mixed-race, with features of the Valorian people. Declan and I were both locals, so there was no way our son could look like this. Enraged, Declan scolded me in front of everyone, accusing me of cheating on him and having a disgraceful affair with a Valorian. No matter how many time

I traveled over a thousand eight hundred miles to find my wife. She was a professor at Harbor University. As soon as I arrived, I received a call. “Hi, Mr. Jaques. We’re just following up on the stroller your wife custom-ordered from us. Have you been happy with it? If so, would you mind leaving us a quick positive review?” I was stunned. We had lived apart for years and did not have a child together. Still, I remained calm and double-checked. “Are you sure I’m the one who ordered that stroller?” “Yes, sir, I can confirm that. Our system requires ID verification from both parents for all custom stroller orders. The mother on file is Shiloh Zoeller. Mr. Jaques, you are listed as the chi

Two years after we marry, my husband moves his sister and her family into our marital home. The four of them settle down and refuse to leave. So, I quit both my jobs. I laze around at home all day and splurge on various things. I have so many parcels delivered that they pile up by the door. Occasionally, I ask my husband and his sister for allowance. When the management office sends someone to chase for our maintenance fee, my husband breaks down so loudly that everyone in the building can hear him. He asks me whether I've lost my mind—who will support the family if I don't work? How will we survive without money? Am I going to allow our family to starve? So, it turns out he does know th

On the eve of my wedding, my fiance's first love, Sasha Green, ruined my custom-made wedding dress worth a fortune. The gown split open down the back. I had to crouch down and clutched my chest with both hands to keep myself from being exposed. She stood there holding a pair of scissors, looking at me with an innocent expression. "Anthea, I'm really sorry. I used a little bit too much force, and I accidentally ruined your dress. Please don't blame me." My fiance, Gary Dome, immediately went up to her and took the scissors from her hand. His voice was full of concern for her. "Why would she blame you? You were just trying to help trim some loose threads. If anything, it's her fault for b

Despite a decade of marriage, Simon never once shared my bed, claiming that he had pledged himself to ascetic practices and that it was beneath him. I thought that he suffered from some shameful ailment and guarded his secret like a devoted fool, until my birthday, when I came home to find him entangled with a brothel worker before the floor-length mirror. When I lunged forward in rage, he drove a shard of that broken mirror straight through my heart. When I awoke, I was gripping my phone, its screen illuminating a message Simon had just sent: [I’ll still give you a lavish wedding, but the marriage certificate? That belongs to her.]

I chase my six-year-old daughter out of the house on a cold winter day. I cut her new clothes to pieces and dirty her dainty little face with mud. Then, I give her all my savings. She looks at me tearfully and reaches out for me, wanting me to hold her. However, I harden my heart and push her away, saying, "Leave! Go to Bowen Group and look for their CEO, Logan Bowen. Show him my death certificate and your DNA test—he'll take you in." She sobs while looking at me. "Don't you want me anymore, Mommy? Let's go look for Daddy together." After a brief silence, I say, "I can't go with you. I lied to him back then to have you." Yes, I'm a liar. I orchestrated everything from meeting Logan, dat