Archangel Azrael Novels & Stories

In the deepest pit of the celestial pandemonium, Dulmore. There, Ichabod and all his wild angels exists. Some of his angels, he would send to Earth's realm to steal, to kill and to put into chaos, the humans and all their seeds. Just for fun. They would always come back and give account of their works to Ichabod their grande master, who sits on his blazing throne always. Each successful work on Earth's realm fetches them a new rank and pack in a hierarchical order.

Gavreel pov All Angel must train to know how to fight not for violence but to protect humans and in case of times like in the beginning when we have to fight Lucifer and sent him and his Angels to hell, this is our second fight since the beginning of time, fight with the bloodline of Dracula, they are royalties and also pure blood vampires which make them very stronger than their follow vampires, over centuries the Father has been merciful to them but no more, that see themselves as God, Vampires are just Lucifer lab rats, he wanted to make human but its something he can never do, Because humans as flawed as they are, they are created with love, light and the will to have they own choice, th

Something was definitely up and Lisa had a feeling she wouldn’t like what came next. Zadkiel landed silently behind Lisa, she was only alerted to his presence but a slight ripple of displaced air. While lesser reapers like Lisa looked no different from humans, archangels were another story. Zadkiel stood tall, almost 7 feet with lean muscle and massive white wings, brighter than snow. His skin was the same shade as his wings, but there was an ethereal glow to its alabaster hue that made it painful to look at him for too long. The archangel wore a pair of black jeans, black boots, and a plain black t-shirt along with a silver pendant around his neck, the mark of his office.

I looked at him and those fallen beads with a constant stare, trying to figure out, is it even possible for angels wanted to destroy this planet. He snapped at me; that shook me out from my foggy thought zone. "Do you want to know the names of the angels?" he repeats his question. "Yes," I answered, "The first one was the strongest of all, Yaahadana, He called to be vigorous; flight with the metal wings. His strength was unmatchable. But he has a soft heart. The second one was Naksh; The moon lover, an immortal shapeshifter; notorious one. The third one, Zayaan; definition of beauty and intelligence, he was called the protector.

I now know that this was the work of The Keepers. His name, Azrael, meant Angel of Death. This was not a lie. The amount of havoc he and Andres wreaked after splitting, was insane. Before that, and this was hundreds of years ago, we crossed paths. Azrael was on a mission to collect ingredients for his split. None of us knew exactly what he was doing at the time, but he was very determined to get things done. I was seeing a woman back then. She was a Vampire, of course, so she actually liked me for me, and not because of my Reaver charm. She was drawn to me because of who I was.

Xavier stared at Chiara as she slept. She looked so peaceful and harmless as she slept, he never would have guessed she was a psychopath. The corners of her lips were curved in a smile and she looked angelic. The cold expression that was usually on her face was replaced with a happy expression.

I begin to exclaim when Eros's words suddenly replay in my mind. Far from, darling. Just wait and see. "Fuck my life... that son of a bitch was right. It was real." I state, feeling as though a bucket of cold water has been thrown over me. "I'm guessing your referring to meeting with the Gods who marked you?" he asks, and I nod my head. "Yes, it's very real. Greek gods and angels are both real. Us angels, are descendants from the Greek Gods themselves. Here to aid them when they please." he begins to explain.

Mireya’s POV My gaze bounces between Alpha Dante’s wolf whose slowly walking towards Azrael and towards Azrael who was about to flick his finger. Before Azrael could use his black magic, I run towards him and grabbed his hand. I know I was frail and weak but I placed myself in front and faced Alpha Dante. He stopped from walking. His blazing red eyes pierced through me. “Move,” Azrael whispered but I ignored him. Instead, I held his wrist tightly to stop him from exposing that he was a son of a priestess.

He looked at rest, but I knew better. Azrael, the fallen angel of death. They are responsible for the separation of souls from the host, that is, the body. Of course, they would be the ruler of this realm. I say they, because the Angel of death is gender-neutral, as they appear different to every soul, sometimes males, sometimes female. Azrael often appears like a robed skeleton with a scythe because that is what people expect to see. However, they were currently in their prime, so their true form is shown. Azrael holds a rather benevolent role as the angel of death, wherein they act as a psychopomp, responsible for transporting the souls of the deceased after death. Both in Islam and Judais

He’s the only one who flashes a smile but Azrael gave him a glare. The last boy was Radeuriel, has clean fringed-up chestnut brown hair and is the tallest and leanest. His ocean blue eyes fits with his long and narrow nose and thin lips that smiles eerily for Azrael. For an Angel, he has a piercing on his left eyebrow and lower lip. They were the Angel of Wrath, Mercy, the Earth, Command and the Archives, respectively. “Give this up. You know it won’t work.” Yerachmiel said, his voice is set as a quiver.