Archangel's Shadows Novels & Stories

Proof that shadows were closing in. I leaned into Victor’s chest, his arms wrapping around me like armor. “Promise me,” I whispered. “Promise you won’t let this destroy Elysium.” He pressed a kiss to my temple, fierce and reverent. “I promise. But understand, Cassie—whoever dared to touch you like this… they’ve already declared war.” And in that moment, with Victor’s heartbeat thundering beneath my ear and the photos burning a hole in my thoughts, I realized something terrifying.

His eyes told me everything. I would regret it. Deeply. Forever. The chandelier light caught the edge of his jaw, gilding his face in cruel perfection. His aura pressed down on me, relentless, terrifying. And for the first time, I understood why Elena had forced me to whisper his name over and over, to practice silence like a prayer. It wasn’t preparation. It was a warning. Because once Marcelo Bernardo set his eyes on you, he owned you. And you could never say his name again.

The Shadows whispered. "Drake?" Angel said, fear engulfing her voice. "What is going on? What are these creatures?!" She stammered, her voice trembling as tears welled up in her eyes. I felt the knot in my stomach constrict, as a sense of dread and helplessness washed over me. Frozen in time, I knew the reality was stark and brutal. I was about to witness the love of my life being taken from this world, and I was powerless to stop it.

The God of the humans was the one that saved them, why will they care about these pathetic stares? While they were doing this, Angelo golden eyes returned to its dull iris. He suddenly falls down, but before his unconscious body touches the ground, a shadow leaped up from the window and motionlessly caught Angelo unconscious body. The shadow eyes that held that indifferent light inside of it for years now hold such a tender light nobody acquaintances from the shadow side could imagine.

The moment my skin touched the metal, a siren began to wail—a deep, cacophonous howl that made the very walls vibrate. ​"The vault!" Betty screamed, her face twisted in a mask of maniacal fear. "It’s a lockdown! You’re going to be buried alive in here!" ​Suddenly, the ceiling panels hissed open. Four silhouettes dropped from the darkness, landing with the clinical silence of professional killers. The Archangels. They weren't wearing the suits of the Roman gala; they were in full tactical gear, their faces hidden behind matte-black visors. ​"Bloodbath it is," Malakai growled, a predatory grin spreading across his face.

Then we show them, she said, stepping forward, the shades tightening their circle, their chant deafening, the crystal cracking, not breaking but opening, light spilling, chaos leaking, the Veil trembling. But the hum shifted, sharper, colder, and the cavern shook, the shadows surging, not shades but hers, the shadow’s, her black eyes gleaming, her smile cruel, stepping from the crystal, not alone but with her, the void, her white eyes empty, her shadows bleeding, their voices, my voice, a chorus, lock, spark, flame, void, whole at last. The bond fractured, pain blinding, Lucian’s voice, "Angel, hold on," raw, his hand slipping, the shades lunging, not for us but the crystal, their chant a sc

’ But thinking about how later, that perverted Don of Luchese would touch him? Angel swallowed a bile. He felt like vomiting the champagne. The only one he had consumed since last night. The music from the masquerade party echoed through the restroom walls, too slow and too distant—like its mocking. Then Angel’s eyes sharpened. In his peripheral vision, he caught movements—shadows sliding in through the now open door. The suits are now coming in. ‘I don't have a choice.’ He decided. And he moved. The time seems to have resumed.

He started, lowering his gaze on his lap for a few moments, “Usually, only the ones who had fallen from grace have black wings...” “But I...” He paused again for a moment, “Because of who I am, I was also blessed with neutrality...which means that I can freely walk in both Heaven and Hell as well, completely unaffected.” “Why?” I simply asked, suddenly drawing his attention back on me. He sighed, his deep blue orbs twinkling with an emotion I obviously failed to read as he stared deep into my eyes, “I am the Archangel of Death, Blake. This is my job. I have to guide the souls to their final destination, whether is to heavenly peace or eternal torment...” He quietly explained, making me sudde

Michael's eyes blazed an intense scrutiny as he approached, drawing closer to the edge of the shield, and, as he did so, I noticed three other creatures had broken away from the army and were edging towards us, until finally all four of them stopped just a few metres away, lined up in a row. 'The Archangels,' I said to Ethan, not taking my eyes off of them. The Angel closest to where I stood, stepped closer to the shield. This one was darker-skinned than the others, with black shadows under his eyes like war-paint, and tight wiry blonde curls closely-cropped to this skull. Reaching out, he touched a gold-nailed hand to the shield, which fizzed and sparked under his touch and he snatched it a

Their intentions on what they have planed for the doctor was worse than what any mortal could conger up on their worst day. Long shadowy finger like tendrils reached for the doctor’s shadow and grabbed a hold of it. His fat body hit the hard concrete floor. The shadows began to drag him slowly toward the vortex. He felt the strange tugging at his body and he could feel himself being pulled along by his shadow.” What the hell? Im not going any where with you.”He began to thrash about violently but to no avail. The shadows began to reveal the faces of all of his innocent victims. Every last woman, man and child.”NO! NO! IT CAN’T BE! YOU ARE ALL DEAD! NO! SOMEBODY HELP ME! PLEASE NO!” He contin