Azrael Diablo Novels & Stories

Azrael wields the Blade in grace, power and glory. The Blade’s gold hilt with black crystals, the luminous, silvery and steely blade with details of diamonds and golden runes looks incredibly stunning in Azrael’s hands, “After a thousand year, I think the oldest Damned title would be passed right down tonight.” she stated. Her voice is remarkably thrilling.

I can tell by the expression on her face that the truth of her new reality is finally dawning on her. Zoe must hear the panicked tone in her friend's voice because she wraps her arm around her shoulder and calmly replies. “Listen, Bree, what I was saying is the truth; Azazel is a demon, Lucifer is the devil and Fallon... well... Fallon is also supernatural. They're here because they're trying to stop Marina, aka Marael and Sahara, from bringing hell on earth. Sahara and Marael have been keeping you and me stationary until they can use us for their spell.”

Ezra, who was sitting beside me, got up from his chair and extended a hand to the Lycan, shaking it. “I believe that you of all people should be aware of my support for Mikhail.” Ezra answered, raising an eyebrow at Killian. “The main question is why are YOU here? I believe that you are a rival?” “Yes, I was a rival to Mikhail’s father, but that does not mean that I have to be toward his son. You know, a family rival can end somewhere, and I choose for it to end with his father.” Killian said, looking at Mikhail who frowned at the sight of the Lycan. Ezra put his hand on his chest, pushing him back.

“And you… stole my crown. And now you’ve brought her into it.” He glanced at me like I was a puzzle, dangerous and fragile all at once. “She doesn’t belong here. Neither of you do. But I will fix that.” The air shifted, heavier now, and the shadows leaned in closer to us. The underworld itself seemed to shiver at Kael’s presence. Before I could react, Azrael appeared. Not in judgment — not yet — but with the weight of eternity pressing down. Wings of iridescent white, sword sheathed at his side, eyes glowing with warning.

And froze. A male crouched by the low, crackling fire—dark hair tousled from the wind, worn leather jacket hugging broad shoulders, horns curved elegant and deadly sharp like polished obsidian. Those red eyes fixed on me with pure, unfiltered venom, glowing faintly in the morning light. Azrael. The incubus.

Instead, I force a smile. "Careful, Dean Withers. You almost sound afraid of a dead family." His expression darkens. "Afraid?" He scoffs. "No. I reserve fear for things that are still breathing." My smile falls as he steps closer. "The Celestial Dragons are gone. Your parents are dead. Your sister is dead. And you, Miss Thalorien, are nothing more than the last loose thread of a failed rebellion." Every word steals more air from the room. "You know nothing," I whisper.

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It was because I would not buy him expensive toys or let him play on his phone without finishing his homework. The biggest reason was my refusal to allow Leia to be his mother. Even so, when I noticed the slab that was about to fall, I rushed forward without hesitation to shield him with my arms. The slab struck me on my head and left a gaping wound. But he pushed me away and grabbed Leia’s hand. He asked her with a concerned look on his face if she was scared. Williams Taylor burst in with a gas mask, and he was the first to rush over. He got hold of the only gas mask and handed it to Leia.

He retorted back, repeating my question in a mocking way. "Drake." Ethan called him in a warning tone before he averted his eyes on me. "Speak now, Cielle. What happened to that event?" I heave a deep sigh and shake my head at him, "I don't know." "People died back there, and our name is being blamed for it! If it gets to the authorities, we'll be doomed!" Drake hissed at me and my eyes sharpened while looking back at him. "How could you let this happen to a project that you're handling?"

They had to pick up Diana on their way. "They all have different killers. The four of them " The examiner on the right side started, on his badge was written, Dylan. He adjusted his glasses well on his face and then his nose mask. His white glove was a little bit stained with the blue pen he was holding. Right beside him were three other people. They seemed like students more like interns. They all carried a notepad jotting was the examiner was saying. He breathed in repeatedly as he scratches his forehead, "Something still amazes me" he continued, "three of the drawings, I mean the cross sign were made by the same person ". Anthonia eyes nearly popped out. "How is that even possible? " She