Dark Devotion Novels & Stories

--- THE FIRST DREAM — BLOOD AND PROMISES I’m kneeling. Not weak — never weak — but controlled. Intentional. There’s blood on the floor, streaked in dark arcs like spilled ink. Someone groans behind me. Someone else is praying. I don’t turn. I already know who matters. He stands in front of me. Nicholas. Younger. Sharper. Colder in a way that feels cleaner, less fractured. His suit is immaculate, but his eyes are ruined — dark and burning, locked onto me like I’m the axis the world spins on.

I smile sadly and stand up then my phone beeps with a message. “Initiate” my jaw becomes hard but my revenge must be done. ************** “Come in” a girl says as I walk into the dangerous home of the one and only Isabella Morretti. I have heard rumors of the black rose that runs the drug world single handedly and deadly. She doesn't have mercy or compassion, so when I saw her at the party I couldn't help but stare because she was just as deadly as she was attractive. “Thank you”, I subtly look around and notice how simple and welcoming her home is, you'll never think she's a drug Lord, “I'm guessing you're not Isabella?”

It sent me millions of sparks down to my core. "D-Devon... please..." I sobbed. I tried to resist him but he was too strong. "Don't pretend that you don't like it, priestess..." He kissed my neck again. This time, he became passionate and slow. "D-Devon..." "Submit to me, my priestess. I don't fucking care about your spells. All I need is you..." he whispered. "Devon, this is a sin against the heavens. You must not do this. Please..."

"It's not dangerous, I swear. It's a low-dose sedative, it just—she would've been fine, I just wanted—" I punch him again. “I need a name!” “It’s GHB!” He produces urgently. “It was a low dose, I swear—” I slam his head back against the floor before punching him again. The anger coming out of me right now is not the kind I'm used to. I'm used to cold anger, controlled, the kind I can easily put down when I'm finished with it. This is different. This is an old type of anger that comes from somewhere dark, somewhere I stopped visiting years ago, those years before I knew how to channel it into something useful, when the feel of bone breaking under my knuckles was the only thing that made the w

The noises Ruth and Ivan made pierced my ears. I wanted to cover them so I wouldn't have to listen to them, but the noise penetrated my soul. I clamped my ears as hard as possible, but it didn't help. I couldn't escape, either. It was as if I'd been placed under a spell that bound my soul to Ruth. I couldn't get away from her. I could only watch as my fiancée, the woman I loved more than life itself, slept with my murderer. I was so disgusted that I wanted to puke.

"Be as soft as The ANGELS But as dark as The DEVILS When it's the right time" NISHMA .. .. [•16+ mature content] Withering in pain, frustration, and embarrassment crawled upon her as Nishma's body shook uncomfortably in unreleased pleasure. "But You missed it" She heard him saying, mockingly and these words stabbed the heart of DEVIL as a fire enraged her. "Mission accomplished"< Demon spoke in his head and danced at his victory.

A strange gleam flickered in the Sheikh's eyes as he spoke, his deep voice breaking the silence: Shams al-Duhur: In a small town, there once lived a sect of corrupt humans who gathered the innocent and slaughtered them as sacrifices to demons. But the demons betrayed them, killing each one and leaving no bodies behind. Their blood filled a vast pit beneath this very town—a pit dug by the devil himself, which became a lake of human blood, fed daily by the endless violence of wars and accidents. From this curse, Malik was born. The devil claimed to be a soldier on Earth and sent him to fill that lake with blood without end. No human being can stop him or uncover his true nature.

We didn't let the darkness win. END OF VOLUME ONE

Sit modus deam benedicat animabus illorum sub lucem hyacintho luna est scriptor Ut benedicat deam luna est luna, lux hyacintho luna sub meam” (From the deep of the spirit, who has never fallen asleep, do good to me. The spirits of the air were foul and black. It is not a pleasant thing to be kind to me. Passion and thought with the spirit of the anger against the destruction provided that it is them to me. The Spirit of the cold and the frost by the phantoms of crime and vice do good to me. May The moon goddess bless the luna' soul under the light of the blue moons)

”Nice flowers.” Wendy commended as soon as Rebecca entered the room. Rebecca on the other hand didn’t pay attention to what was said. She was lost in a world of her own thought. She didn’t see the face of the biker, but from the sound of his voice, she could tell who it was. It was a voice she would recognize anytime, any day. The voice of the devil who haunts her in her dream. A pat on the shoulder brought her back to reality. She jerked and the flower slipped from her hands, but Wendy caught it before it could fall to the floor.