Devil May Cry Crossover Novels & Stories

she said seductively, as she moved his chair around so he was facing her. "All those times I've screamed out your name when you were so deep insi-" she got cut off by a loud ferocious growl, Dante stood to his full length, his eyes turning dark, his Lycan was taking over, just to think of anyone other than his mate made him snap. "If you ever even come near me again I'll kill you," Dante hissed in rage, his eyes now a complete demonic black. Knox and Gabriel who were walking towards the office witnessed a sobbing and trembling Ariana leave the alphas office, startled they looked at each other and ran in,

"Stop all drug supply to Mikequel Christoper! And return double the money received from him." "Yes, sir." Devon switched off the phone unilaterally. He looked down at his right hand, blood still clinging to his palm. He slapped the face of a young woman he would trust as his bottom. "I bet she's more brutal than Alaric's son and daughter," Devon thought. *****

Dylan's POV: In an isolated valley named Mudgrave, there's a crossroad where it is said to be a meeting place for those who wanted to see the one they called "The Crossroad Demon" a cool name for someone who can grant wishes, and in return, he must be rewarded with an equal value of the wishes, an eye for an eye, a soul for a soul, and a payment worth the value of their precious wishes.

he claimed. I looked straight into his eyes. They were filled with a kind of insane possessiveness, mixed with warmth. He truly looked like a devil that was craving for my soul, but this Devil was also willing to devote himself giving me tenderness and protection I was seeking through my whole life… I was ready to sign the pact, even with shedding all of my blood. “You can belong only to me,” he whispered and kissed my lips. At the same time his long fingers painted lines up and down my spine and back. I got lost in this sensation, the waves of electrifying excitement kept flowing through my entire body. Suddenly, he stopped, again, teasing me, making me want him more.

Wolves collided with the shadows of those wings, thrown across the room as blood and instant death erupted. Vivica froze, eyes wide, her chest rising as she watched the devil himself descend upon them. The dark blue aura surrounding him pressed against her burning skin, sending a thrill along her heated skin, and desire, through her. All the rumors about him turned out to be true. He was the Devil. The real Devil. Finn stepped forward deliberately, each movement slow, lethal, deliberate. He stopped just in front of her, the room now deathly silent except for the beat of her pulsing heat.

I saw Lisa move into the kitchen from the corner of my eye. “Uh, hello.” “I’m Matteo, Lorenzo’s brother.” Yeah, I remember, Lorenzo. I like the devil better. I nodded. Lisa came back and went to drop something on the table. “Since you’re done, I’ll just go,” I told her, turning around. “No, you should join us,” Matteo stated as he took his seat. “Uh…I can’t…I…” “Okay, I’m insisting.” That was when the devil came descended the stairs. He barely made a sound yet we all felt his presence. He was dressed in his usual all-black fashion. He would have looked relaxed if he would be sensible enough to unclench his jaw.

Maybe start planning my next escape for real this time. And then—he did something that caught me off guard. Ronan Blackwood, the Devil himself, squatted in front of me. Not stood. Not loomed. Squatted. Eye level. Holding two glasses of wine in his large hands. “What’s the problem?” he asked, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. I looked away. “I’m fine,” I muttered.

They made love under the night sky, bodies joined, hearts entangled. The declaration had ignited the flames. Now the underworld would learn exactly how dangerous the devil became when he loved.

Even a towel I had to wrap around my body at a sluggish tempo, not even caring to adjust the knot enough for it to be secured and not go loose and fall at the slightest of falters. Trying to sleep it off had failed, the cold shower had only made matters worse, erotic literature was not going to save me now and there was only one other option; physical indulgence. I have never drank spirits, but in that moment I had the strongest craving for the Devil's spirit which undoubtedly is made from tears of his victims or is demon blood distilled with the fires of Hell. I needed the strength of that Hell brew to knock me straight into oblivion and if I am lucky enough, to give me a high I will never

Saint says with an evil smile, his fangs showing and making him look more devilish. Saint nods his head at his men and they immediately grab Maxwell, holding his hands still on the chop board. “I am sorry. Please, please. Don't do this. I beg you." Maxwell starts to cry, fear written clearly on his face as he begs Saint. He searches around for someone to save him from this devil, bit everyone just watched on silently. His pleas fall on deaf ears as Saint ignores them. Saint raises the knife, bringing it down on his wrist and successfully chopping his hands off.