Azazel Helltaker Novels & Stories

“What are you talking about-?” What the!-- My head suddenly rang and it’s extremely painful. I suddenly fell off the whole place and became unconscious. The next thing I knew I was already at home with my memories of being the “Guardian of souls” had returned. AZRAEL THE LAST PSYCHOPOMP "to kill or to save: choose your purpose" Written by: Chavinsky Y.E

Pieces of its brain sprang to the floor. This man is Azrael Cross. A legendary assassin under The Association, he has completed several high-level assassinations including big mafia bosses and drug cartel bosses. These high-level assassinations were attempted by many but only Azrael was able to do so, the member of The association had great respect for him. Click! Click! Azrael's camera sounds. He took a photo of Leo's body to confirm his death to his client and this is also one of the required procedures that the assassin must follow no matter what happens. After that, he immediately sent these photos to them.

I rolled my eyes, lowering my gaze to look back at my wrist as I reached to grab my now full mug, feeling also a little offended even though I still had no idea what was that stupid mark. “You don’t have to stare at it like that, though.” My eyes suddenly snapped up to his once I've felt him quickly grab my shoulders, turning me aside to face him. “Do you even understand the gravity of this situation?” He practically yelled in my face, sounding extremely alarmed, his tone dripping with seriousness. “Huh?” My eyebrows shot up, obviously taken aback by his sudden outburst. “Blake, Azrael is one of the Horsemen,” He kept ranting as I simply stared up at him, clueless.

Chapter Two. AZAEL BLACKWELL. The redhead with the big blue eyes was moving her hips in circles above me, I could feel my manhood coming in and out of her over and over again, I was focusing, imagining her to be that sweet redhead I've been studying for months, one that, has become the main protagonist of every one of my fantasies, I can't get her out of my head, not until I have her in my hands and make her mine, just mine.

Brand had forgotten what it felt like – the all-consuming need for the blood of his enemies to be spilled on the ground at his feet. Brand shook his head another scream was silenced as he ripped out another throat. The blood dripped from his long snout as he took a breath and looked around him. Leather-clad warriors lay around him, some with eyes open staring at the sky as if looking for the Valkyries coming to take them to Valhalla. Brand snorted. Good luck. He couldn't believe the gods would want any of these followers of a deranged leader in their feasting halls.

Cain fell back, shielding me behind him, our bodies flush against each other, his eyes never leaving his opponent as the sky overhead became crowded with angels and Nephilim. “Who is it?” I yelled above the din of wings. His eyes cast upward for a brief moment, then they narrowed. “Penemue and the asshole with the horn is Azazel.” “And?” I prodded him, this was not the time to be the strong and silent type. “And….Penemue is a grade A fucker. He is not on our side. Azazel is though, for all the help he is.” I could hear the eyeroll in Cain’s tone.

“Zale Lionel Helmer” has turned completely devil after his wife’s death. Soft feelings which he has in his heart for his closed one have gone now. Only a cold and deathly devil is hunting for his Prey every day. His soft nature which he holds deep inside him is death along with his wife. “Tara Helmer” is the same sweet innocent girl who believes everyone. She doesn’t know anything about her past life. She doesn’t know that is an angel for a devil.

" The prince shouted. Drake was trying to smile devilishly. "You're not a respected royal. Why would I respect a useless creature?" He scoffed. "I will kill you; I will kill your heir!" Drake's expression went cold and dark, staring at the prince. "If you dare to hurt my heir... don't let him hunt you down to hell and meet my demon there." Drake seriously muttered "I'm not scared of Satan!" "But you are scared of me." I have the devil's eye... which means I'm Satan. "

Malachor's growls vibrated through her, his fangs grazing her jaw now, teasing another bite as he chased his release, determined to flood her with his seed. She could feel him swelling thicker, his hips snapping forward with feral urgency, balls slapping her ass in wet, brutal smacks. The altar groaned beneath them, cracks spiderwebbing from the force, but Elizabeth barely noticed—her world narrowed to the demonic invasion splitting her open, the metallic scent of blood thick in the air, mingling with the salty tang of sweat and the musky reek of their mingled arousal. Her thighs quivered, locked around his waist, pulling him deeper despite the agony, her submissive body craving the destruct

The only thing on Summers Hartley’s mind was revenge. Being a half-breed, she was born extremely weak and completely incapable of protecting herself or anyone, and that cost her. Her family was slaughtered, and her pack was reduced to ashes. As the Alpha heir to Silverguard pack, she swore to destroy the monsters responsible: the Bloodmoon pack. When the perfect chance for revenge arrives, she hides behind a new identity as the dying Alpha’s personal healer and enters the Bloodmoon pack. Every day she heals the pack, she has promised to destroy. Sworn to pay back the same hand, her mission is simple: poison the Alpha who murdered her people and, together with her uncle, destroy eve