Book Of Revelations Isaac Novels & Stories

His good eye cracked open, and despite the agony written across his face, he still managed a pained smile. "Still… breathing.” He rasped. Vivian clenched her jaw, a muscle ticking as she fought to stay composed. "Who did this?" Isaac coughed, blood dribbling from his lip. "The rebels. They—wanted me to turn against you. I told them to go to hell." My hands curled into fists. Fucking hell. Vivian closed her eyes for a long second before standing abruptly. Her whole body trembled with barely restrained fury. "This is the last damn straw." She growled.

"Never rulers." "They existed for only one reason." He looked at everyone. "To make sure no one ever became powerful enough to rewrite history." Lucien folded his arms. "And Jonathan Mercer created them." "Yes." Gabriel answered. "When he realized the Covenant had already begun to corrupt itself." Outside... The man finally spoke. His voice carried clearly through the intercom. "My name is Isaac." "I have no intention of entering unless invited." "I only came to deliver Jonathan's final instructions." Alexander whispered, "He's patient."

A very petite woman with silver hair and violet eyes was pacing back and forth. She seemed nervous, very nervous, too nervous. Then Isaiah appeared. He was covered in bandages, pale, but conscious. And as soon as he saw the little fairy, he froze, and so did she. The air changed, literally changed. I felt something sweep through the room, a strange, powerful, and primal vibration. Isaiah opened his eyes. “No...” The little fairy gasped. “Goddess, ” she whispered, her fists clenched. Isaac appeared behind his brother.

“I just got a little carried away. It was so funny—hearing you actually believe he’s dead.” I drew back slightly, letting a beat of silence hang between us before continuing, my tone suddenly calm and deliberate. “Darling,” I said, savoring the word, “Isaac is alive. And he sent me for you.” It was a good thing I’d leaned back when I did—because the instant the words left my mouth, the demon lunged forward with such force that the chains barely had time to rattle before they went taut.

In a suite, slightly intimidating. "I know you have a lot of questions, but first, let me give you your mom's letter before I read the will." He gave the letter to Isabella and she reached for it while quivering. Trying to hold her tears. ❁❁❁❁ My Baby Bella, If you're reading this letter, it means that I couldn't return to you immediately. I'm very sorry I had to leave you because I found news about your father. Yes, baby, Benedict is not your father, but his younger brother Stefano.

"Yes sire." "Okay, it seems Reid was very smart to hide his child and the gender from prying eyes, but I will definitely find River." Issac said. "Since you don't know anything about my nephew, at least you do know how the supernatural kingdom runs, I mean their daily activities. I have been away for a long time, so try to refresh my memory." Issac said and placed his two legs on the table, relaxing his back, closing his one good eye. "I am listening Jeffrey, or should I force you to speak?" ****

“Then we go. Now.” I forced myself upright, swaying, but before either of us could move, the air shimmered. Golden sparks ignited in the snow, drifting upward like fireflies. Heat—not mine, not Lyra’s—rolled over us, vast and ancient. Kael appeared. The godwolf’s spectral form towered, radiant, fur spun from light and fire, eyes like suns in the night. And in his arms, small and trembling but alive—Isaac. Lyra broke. A sob burst from her as she stumbled forward, collapsing to her knees in the snow. “Isaac!”

I was hoping for something of value, but right now the Rebellion needs to concentrate on this mission, not another to deal with all these hopeless excuses for men and women. I catch up to Isaiah as everyone disperses at the end of the day, walking beside him out of the dining room. "They don't like you very much, do they?" His eyes are cold as he looks down at me. "They don't know me." *** I’m laying on my bed, flipping through a book when the curtain covering my open window is pulled away.

Friendly, ISAAC's butt. ISAAC's going to give the book back to her once ISAAC decides to read through it. "This manual seems quite comprehensive," ISAAC remarks as ISAAC leafs through the contents page. "I have to say I'm impressed you've got through all these stages. Chapter one, shock; chapter two, distress; chapter three, denial; chapter four, mourning; chapter five, mourning?" "Nah, I skipped directly to chapter eleven." ISAAC's brow furrows as ISAAC's gaze drops to chapter eleven entitled 'Revenge and Retaliation.'

The cathedral loomed like a judge watching its jury, cloaked in shadow and mourning. Inside the hidden corridors beneath the sanctuary, Isabella moved like a ghost. Her white robe was soaked and muddied, but she held her journal close to her chest. That leather-bound book had become a map of war—her dreams, the visions, and scripture that no one else could understand. But she did now. Every word pointed to this moment. Every whisper of prophecy had woven into the trembling reality around her. And her name—her destiny—was written across it.