Azriel Meaning Novels & Stories

“Sorry, luv. I didn’t mean to be such an arse about it.” Creighton clears his throat and moves towards a large table. “All bantering aside, why are you two here?” Azazel puffs out a breath and moves towards the table with a loose stride. “I’m here because my mate is the siphon that Marael is using to end the world.” My stomach tightens at his words. Even though I know that I’m the siphon, it still pains me to hear it. Azazel must notice my discomfort because he extends his hand towards me and gives me a gentle smile.

“It isn’t kindness I doubt, Mother. It is intent. One should never mistake courtesy for complacency.” Abigail’s smile remained in place, her fingers grazing the rim of her goblet. “And one should never mistake suspicion for wisdom. She is a guest, Azriel—not an enemy.” Azriel’s jaw tightened, his gaze steady. His words, though softened by civility, carried an unmistakable weight. “Forgive me if I prefer not to underestimate those who walk willingly into our walls. Intentions are rarely what they seem.”

"Azrael... His name is Azrael," "Azrael?" Maze walks in front of me and observes my face with wide, curious eyes. "So he is an angel then?" I stare at her. "How do you know that?!" Maze shrugs. "Everyone knows Azrael is the angel of death, which is kinda suiting because everyone knows what will happen if you fall in love with an angel," Anxiety washes over me. "That's why I'm trying to forget about the guy," Maze grins in her cheerful way. "Azrael is known for being a player; my mother talked about him the other day, complaining she is losing workers to the parasite. He lives in a castle down south, and apparently, he is hiring maids,"

“Blood rank does not just vanish. My laws of the gods and the rank of your bloodline bestowed to you by said gods.. It means you already are.” The fire crackles sharply. Outside the chamber walls, distant thunder rumbles somewhere deep beneath the mountain sky. I shake my head slowly. “The prophecy said you would bring the end with me.” Azriel smiles then. Not cruelly. Almost sadly. “Rubbish,” he says. The word sounds strange wrapped in ancient power. “I only intended to end those who fought against the true nature of things.” His gaze burns strangely bright in the firelight now. “Unison. One ruler above every species.”

"Don't be sorry, I'm happy just like this. As long as I have you and we have our mate, that's all that matters." "Well shit, your definitely making this hard for me to kill us then. " Azrael said , then suddenly got lightheaded and felt weaker than he did moments ago. "Do you have a name?" Azrael said as he reached out to catch himself as his body slid down the wall and he fell to the floor. "Zion." "Zion, I like it!" Azrael said as he seemed to struggle to breathe. Zion felt happy and wanted to purr that his human liked his name. But he could feel what was coming and instead wanted to whimper.

Azriel knew how much building the great population means to their father, even if he doesn’t believe in the cause the others are believing in. The least he can do is try to do his things on the low, without attracting unwanted attention that can use his actions to slander their father and threaten his position as the leader of the organization.

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.

I asked, frowning slightly. “You sound like you can’t wait to get away from me.” He chuckled lightly, stretching out his hand at the same time, “I’m Azriel, and it’s nice to make your acquaintance.” I stared at his face then back to his waiting hand. He brought it further to me, “Come on, it’s a bit rude to leave a hand waiting. Look, people would think I’m being ignored while asking you out. I mean, I’m asking you out to be my friend now, but it’s still not the asking out that they’d think is happening right now.”

With Daegal and the other man who— "Who is he? I've never seen him around here before," Naomi asked. "Azriel... Chief Azriel. He is one of my closest friends and a loyal ally to my rule of the continent. You do not remember seeing him on coronation day? I thought that..." Daegal paused at the confusion on Naomi's face, trying to piece the new revelation together.

The second Remnant dropped to one knee, shadows flickering with ancient regret. The third let out a sound that wasn’t rage, wasn’t sorrow—just longing. A deep ache that even gods could not name. Azriel rose to his feet. > “You weren’t exiled,” he said gently. “You hid. But the world remembered you—not to worship, but to heal.” He stepped forward, fearless, something divine and deeply human in his voice. > “You asked for a name. I gave you one. You asked for a witness. I became one.”