Book Of Azrael Special Edition Novels & Stories

“The position you’re about to take doesn’t allow fragility. If you walk into that throne room with a heart still intact, Fangshire’s enemies will tear it out of you and smile while they do it.” My hands curled into fists. “So what, I’m supposed to turn into you?” “Yes,” he said without hesitation. “You are.” The air between us felt charged now, heavy with anger and something darker underneath it. My chest rose and fell too quickly, my earlier tears replaced by something sharp and overwhelming. “From this moment on,” Azrael continued, his voice low and unyielding, “the only thing that should ever make you cry is pleasure, and the force of all the orgasms I'm going to give you.”

They were magnificent terrors, each more alluring and dangerous than the last. Azrael, the eldest Prince of Wrath, stepped forward first. Towering over seven feet with obsidian skin that gleamed like polished night, massive curved horns crowning his head, and molten gold eyes that pierced straight through my soul. His muscular physique was barely restrained by straps of dark leather and chains that accentuated every ridge of his powerful chest and arms. “A bold little mortal,” he rumbled, his voice a deep caress that vibrated through my core. His gaze swept over me slowly, lingering on the swell of my breasts, the curve of my hips, the way my robes clung to my thick thighs. “And what a delic

"The only reason we kept her alive was so she could convince you to trust us." He looked at me with a satisfied smile. "She already handed over the spell book we needed. It was the key to finding our clan. Now that we have it, both of you are completely useless to us." Before I could respond, loud noises echoed from downstairs, voices and footsteps. Azrael is here, my heart skipped a beat. I could feel his presence, Kael heard it too. "Rot in hell," he said, raising the gun and aiming it at me again. I slowly closed my eyes. Click but nothing happened. When I opened my eyes again, Kael frowned before letting out a mocking laugh.

Aiden ends on a sigh and sips his coffee. “Wait! You destroyed the talisman? That could be evidence if I decide I still need to pursue this case despite Willow’s desire not to press charges!” The detective scowls at Aiden. “Its remains are in a Brazier downstairs. I didn’t find the herbs I wanted or see Raff. A goblin found me and told me he had what I was seeking, giving me a vial and telling me that its contents would make me irresistible to my mate. He said a drop or two a day was all I needed, but I was going to see her that night. Before meeting at our friend Felix’s apartment I drank the whole vial hoping she would finally feel the bond. I was sorely mistaken. I felt a little giddy at

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Pushing the door open he slid into his study room and brought out a book showing it to Draco who had no idea what it was for. "Wondering how I knew what happened without stepping out of my room, this.. I saw everything here and after the Queen you're next, I don't know how but everything here is happening right now." Jeiel rushed, showing him everything he needed to know. Draco stared at him, jaw dropped to the floor. "It's the demon!" He said the words hanging on his mouth as he coughed out blood. Jeiel was shocked and with a swift move turned the book over to himself and then he saw Draco on a tick but no indication to know which tick he was on. His hands started sweating out as he tried s

Authors Note: The Human is book number one. The New Age King is book number two. I highly suggest reading book one before reading the sequel, but if you don't want to you can manage the second without doing so. The one big thing in the first book was Goddess Selene's curse. She cursed all lycans to be born in wolf form. Their first shift wasn't until the age of ten. Thank you so much for reading. "Please, Selene, slow down. Where are we going," I ask as the Goddess in front of me practically sprints down the wide corridor?

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.

Some looked familiar from childhood fairy tales, horror movies, that phase in college when I thought being into witchcraft was a personality. But then I saw the drawing of a tall, old fashioned doll, dressed in funeral lace and holding a black rose. I knew that doll. I’d know that face anywhere. My pulse quickened. The section beside it was handwritten, a translation pinned into the book later with different ink. Someone had written the word “Azariel” three times, each in a different script. Underneath, a single line. “He who waits in porcelain, flesh restrained, power chained and desire undying.”

Raphael half-joked. "I know what you mean," I said plainly. "Auzzy," Raphael announced, "how nice of you to come back so soon." Archangel Azrael, the collector of souls for Father— God's helper, appeared onto us. "This could have been precluded." He lifted his red shroud, letting soul particles escape into Raphael's mortar. He then gave Raphael his palm to incise, quickly and painlessly letting his blood drop into the mortar. "I won't do this again," he stated. "No matter how much Father loves us. There has to be some order, brother."