Azael Meaning Novels & Stories

“No. Not a weapon. Not a being. The Eye was a god. A brutal, sadistic god. Not even bound by any order—neither Void nor Light. He devoured realms for sport. He watched creation burn and called it beauty.” Kai’s voice trembled. “But he’s just a myth. You said the myths were—” “—half-truths,” Kairis finished for him. “And this one is true. He was buried beneath the Void, sealed by all Pantheons together. His presence alone bends reality. If Elias is reacting like this, it means their aether is clashing. That thing is waking.” Azazel snarled inside Elias. “We are not ready for this war. He was supposed to stay dead!”

When he finished I cleared my throat. "My friend speaks that language. What is it?" I asked curiously and he eyed me strangely. "It is Unseelie, I saw your memories of the brownies, you know the fairies," Azrael said. I nodded and told him I had gone to the fairy realm in my younger years and saw trolls making him grin. "I am a Dökkálfar or a dark elf and half mage. I was cursed for the misdeeds of my past and will spend eternity within this realm giving judgment," he said softly. My heart hurt for him and I reached out and patted his hand.

He is a descendant of great powerful seers and the first-ever wolf known to the clan that glowed on the night of his shifting. Looking back, I knew all along that Azrael was most definitely not the Alpha as I believed that the moon goddess would have made a new star appear in the sky the night of his shifting but it didn't and he was always one who is thirsty for power. As I thought about that, in the memories; when he told me about his glow he also mentioned being the Alpha of all Alpha's.

A howl of wind gushes through the drapes of the night forming a new skin of cold around me and I shudder - not at the cold, but at the pair of dark eyes that stare at me through the fire reflecting them. Azrael seems all innocent, timid, and soft from the way he carries himself, or whimpers around me. Yet there is something in his eyes that speaks the devil in him. Like the tales of hatred or revenge that peek through the corner of his lashes, oozing an aura of danger.

led dark brown hair, which was thick and lustrous. His eyes were a mesmerising deep ocean blue, flecks of silvery light performed ballets throughout. His face was strong and defined, his features moulded from granite. He had dark eyebrows, which sloped downwards in a serious expression.Muscles rippled across every part of his body. He was obviously a seasoned warrior. She’d never seen a man with those features, but she knew, without a doubt, that he was Azazel.His tight jaw was an angular shape that was filled with little stubbles. His pale skin looked so...right. The man had on a white cotton shirt with a silky blue vest and a pair of black pants, which tied everything together."Hello, my l

I’m not stupid. Azazel moves towards the edge of the roof, placing his hands over the sides. “You have never told me what you are, boy?” I shake my head at his persistence but decide there’s no harm in letting him know. “If you must know. I’m part demon and angel.” Azazel moves back, stunned. “What the bloody hell! Are you riffing me, boy? Are you mad?” I shake my head at the sound of his British accent getting deeper. “Nope. Unfortunately, it’s true. According to the council, I’m a half breed abomination.”