Devon From Turning Red Novels & Stories

Over the course of my quest for answers, I had transformed into a force that was unyielding and insensitive to the cries of people who were caught up in the currents of my vendetta. Nevertheless, my phone buzzed just as the doors to the dungeon rumbled shut behind him, a ruthless incursion that shattered the quiet that had been present. There was a video that appeared on the screen, and it was a horrible vision that left an indelible mark on the various parts of my awareness.

1000 years later It was in the middle of winter, in the year of the rabbit. Terrified screams filled the night air as the sky in the human world suddenly turned red, but this didn't last a second before it returned to its original form. Before the eyes of everyone a new star appeared beside a red star called the “ devil's star ” causing a great uproar. All these signs remain unknown to a group of people hiding somewhere in the palace of DeHaven. KINGDOM OF DEHAVEN.

Then Lilian came to take him and Evangeline doon fell asleep too. I walked over to the porch where Devon was staring into nothing with a beer in hand. He looked over at me. “Hey, man. Want one?" He asked and gestured to the small cooler on a small table. I reached for the only other beer inside. “You've got little something on your shirt.” I looked at the stain and shook my head. “Probably because your daughter tried to wipe rice on my sleeve.” He laughed. “She missed you.” “I missed her too.”

Instead of taking it off, she began to sniff it. She closed her eyes, his scent intoxicating her senses as she sniffed. A knock on the door startled her, and she jumped away from her dressing table. “Come– come in,” she called out, all flustered. The door opened, and the devil walked in. He stopped by the door when his eyes caught what she was wearing. The shirt he didn't want. But it was her face that had his full attention. She was red in the face. It made him desire her with a rush that was almost overpowering.

Vaelor pulled up a political alignment map. Colored indicators appeared beside the names of Dominion council members. Blue. Gray. Red. I stepped closer to the screen. “What do the colors mean?” “Blue supports expanding the corruption investigation.” “And red?” “Opposes it.” “And gray?” “Waiting to see who wins.” I sighed softly. “Political survival.” “Exactly.” Dominic studied the map carefully. “How many red?” Vaelor zoomed in. “Eight.” Dominic nodded slowly. “And blue?” “Ten.”

I munched the food again while humming in satisfaction. "Could you please tell me more about you, D-Devon?" He asked. I looked at him, and his eyes flashed with tears. Wait? I think I've seen this before. Is he pulling some of his filthy games again? I wiped my mouth. "Are you sure?" Dang! I sound bitter there. "I mean, yeah sure," phew! "Where should I start. Uhm...," I looked heavenward and thinking about what I should say to him.

"Wh—what?" Slowly, agonizingly, Devon rolled onto his side. He spat out a mouthful of visceral red fluid onto the grating. He reached under his bespoke suit jacket and unclasped a shattered ceramic trauma plate, tossing it aside with a heavily suppressed grimace. The blood on the floor wasn't his—it was the ruptured hydrostatic gel packs laced into the lining of his clothes. "I told you," Devon rasped, his voice raw but infused with his trademark condescension, "that the new subsonic rounds hurt like a bitch even through Level IV armor."

His massive paw missed Devon’s shoulder, striking the granite pillar instead and sending a shower of stone splinters through the air. Elena tried to step forward, her hand still clutched over her stomach, her internal silver-gold light flaring as she prepared to unleash her Luna voice to paralyze Devon. "Marcus, let me help you!" she cried out. Before she could finish the spell, Devon wrenched his broadsword free from Marcus’s flank. The motion caused a violent spray of dark crimson blood across the grey sand of the floorboards. Devon did not pause to admire his strike. Seizing the moment where his father was leaning heavily on his injured left leg, Devon reversed his grip on the hilt, his f

"I mean, the fear, the pure terror I saw in her eyes as she watched you beat me to a pulp, as she watched you become unhinged. It was so plesant to watch. My anger finally explodes. I go around the table, making for him. Damon holds me back. Devon acts like he doesn't even notice my outrage. He continues speaking. "My second plan was to take something from you." His eyes narrow. " You left me behind to rot, big brother. Now, I will take everything from you, until you have absolutely nothing left." He moves away from the window and walks to the door. He pauses to flick the whiskey he poured all over the floor a glance. Then he looks back at me.

How did he— “What are you doing here?!” I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended. Devon smiled slightly. “I came to pick you up.” He lifted the bouquet toward me. The deep red petals were fresh, carefully arranged. “For you.” I stared at it. Then swatted it away. The flowers shifted in his grip. Devon’s expression fell. A flicker of something—hurt—crossed his face before it disappeared. “I don’t want that,” I said coldly. “Leave.”