Azrael's Blade Novels & Stories

Each stab avoided my critical organs. I begged him to let me go, but he said, "Didn't you say you would always be with me, my darling?" I tried to flee when he went to the bathroom, but he caught me. He forced me to the balcony while brandishing his knife; I left a vivid trail of blood from the living room to the balcony. Underneath the moonlight, he stared at my right hand like a starved beast. Ultimately, he swung the blade at me, stabbing me in the heart. Then, he shoved me off the balcony of our apartment, which was on the 20th floor.

He stepped inside the demon’s swing, pivoted sharply— And drove his blade upward beneath the general’s armor. The steel stopped just short of Kharvek’s throat. Silence fell instantly. The duel was over. Kharvek froze. Adrian held the blade steady. “Yield,” Adrian said quietly. The demon’s jaw tightened. But he finally lowered his weapon. “I yield.” Adrian stepped back. The court erupted again—some cheering, others murmuring in disbelief. High above them, Vaelreth stood slowly from his throne.

Azrael, meanwhile, commanded the very fabric of death itself, his sword slicing through the air with an otherworldly glow. The duel raged on, the combatants exchanging blows that shook the earth and sent shockwaves through the skies. Belzebub's sword flashed in the moonlight, striking true time and again, but Azrael's mastery over death allowed him to cheat fate itself. He parried each blow with an almost imperceptible gesture, his eyes fixed on Magdalene's soul with an unyielding gaze.

Blakely Azrael’s a God. He couldn’t die from a Wendigo, right? Right? I held onto that thought as I plunged deeper into the forest, down the weathered path until I exploded into the clearing once more. Silver blood coated the ground, forming a trail to where Azrael stood. One arm was slung over his stomach where it continued to flow freely, while the other wielded a blade. Dark liquid oozed from several gashes on the Wendigo’s body, but it didn’t seem to feel them. Giving myself no time to think, I raised the dagger above my head and charged at the creature.

"And family doesn't let you take one of them without a fight." The bonds explode. All five of them. Mine to my four mates. Mine to Luna. Connecting. Intertwining. Creating something new. A shield of pure combined power. It slams into Lilith. She flies backward. Crashes into her demon army. "Now!" Erebus shouts. "While she's down! Break the contract!" "How?" I scream. "With this." Azrael produces a blade. Black. Ancient. Terrifying. "The Soul Splitter. It can cut contracts written in blood. But it requires payment."

Rylan's sneer was venomous as he stepped forward. "This ends tonight." I drew my blade. "We decide that." The air was electric. Rylan raised his hand. Out of the darkness stepped Azrael — a giant form cloaked in shadow and power, eyes burning with ancient fire. Rylan's smile widened. "Meet the real storm at my command." Fear twisted in my stomach. Azrael's gaze locked with mine — centuries of fury and black magic seething within. The war was no longer steel and blood. It was destiny.

She shook her head in response to Blade’s questioning stare and tightened her lips to show how much she disapproved of it. I was left confused as to why Blade was requiring the old lady’s permission to reveal whatever was bothering him to me. I placed my other hand on our intertwined hands. “Please tell me, I am tired of being left in the dark. You just asked me to trust you and I do, why can’t you trust me?” His eyes met mine again and he leaned down to kiss my palm. “I trust you.” “Then tell me.” The old lady was seething inwards but Blade ignored her. “I have a condition.” He began. “I… I am somehow cursed.”

I said as I pleaded with him with my eyes. “My name is not Gavrael, it’s Zephyr.” That was his only response before he gave the command for his army to attack. As the first wave of the beasts advanced, I raised my hands and they shrieked as I blasted them off with pure light. The beasts behind that first line paused, not daring to step away from the dark shadow surrounding them into my light. The first line that I blasted was nothing more than specks of dust now. “That was just a warning shot.” I growled.

Apparently, he was seated in the shadows. “Why are you here?” She asked, suddenly wide awake. She heard a clicking sound and the bulbs came up, the unexpected brightness momentarily blinding Rosy. While she was still trying to recover from the sudden glare of the lights overhead, Sergio's got up and placed two items beside her. Her eyes now adjusted to the brilliance of the room, she looked down and saw a military knife, much like the one he had used in slashing her wrist and uncocked gun. He knows and he is here to kill me. He wants me to choose which weaon to use.

Nyxara POV I swore I would never use my power like this again. Not for war. Not for survival. Not for love. But he is dying in my arms. And extinction has already taken too much. --- His weight settles against me in a way that is both grounding and terrifying, heavy not because he is physically large—though he is—but because the life inside him is flickering in ways I have not allowed myself to witness in centuries. Silver poisoning is not subtle. It does not move quietly.