Eight Drunken Gods Novels & Stories

Apollo says. “This is true. Besides, your sisters are giving us looks.” I tell them. We all look over, and Mykenzie and Kylani are glaring at us. That is never a good thing. We all decide that Apollo is right, even if he is clearly already fairly drunk. It is fun for me to watch the gods drink. It takes a lot to get a shifter or a vampire drunk, so one would assume that it would take a substantial amount of alcohol to get a god drunk. That is not the case.

“D*mn it! Who are these people? Why did several masters in the Third-grade ultimate god-level appear?” The remaining disciples of the Bloodshed Clan were appalled at how sudden everything changed. One second ago, they did not pay much notice toward these men who barged into the sacred grounds, but who would have thought that so many masters of the ultimate god-level would rush out the next second. There were five masters in the Third-grade ultimate god level and one of them was in the Fourth-grade ultimate god level. This caused them to be instantly stunned.

He smirked and looked back at me. “Get dressed. We will wait in here. When you are ready come out and talk to us.” He shut the door behind him. I took a deep breath. What the hell is going on? Two fucking full-blooded gods are in my apartment. Not just any gods my gods the goddess of the moon the mother of all werewolves and Lycans, Selene. Typhon was also here the god of the dragons, one of the strongest gods there is.

“That’s reductive but essentially correct. The gods cannot physically manifest in our realm. They require Vessels to experience the physical world. When you engage in sacred union, they experience sensation through you. In exchange, they grant power.” “Which three picked me?” “Kael, God of War. Lysander, God of Pleasure. And Morven, God of Death.” He gestures toward three statues along the temple wall. Kael is carved mid-battle, all muscle and violence frozen in stone. Lysander reclines in sensual repose like he’s waiting for someone to feed him grapes. Morven sits on a throne made of bones with an expression that suggests he’s been waiting for something specific for about a thousand years.

“That child rarely lasts longer than me, he drinks too fast.” Darkous sat back, devouring bottle after bottle and the night drifted onwards. Goodwin was the next to pass out as he reached his sixth bottle of whiskey, crashing into the carpet. Michael followed closely behind the Corporal, barely finishing his seventh bottle of burning liquor before passing out; his head slamming back into the couch. The psychopathic lord lit another cigarette as he turned towards Dorian, each devouring the last of their ninth bottles. He laughed slightly as Joey plummeted into the carpet, rolling from the black couch. The animal-like immortal eventually sat on the ground, relaxing as the others remained uncon

He has become a completely different god altogether. Michiall, the playful, vibrant, and extremely curious god of games and mischief has turned into Dorchadais – the literal god of Darkness, wielder of one of the most fundamental forms of energy. But in order for him to be free, the chains need to be fully broken. And because of the lesser amount of dark energy on the middle plane, he also needs a vessel to act as his conduit and bring more darkness to Meanach. Once he has turned Meanach into an annex of Iochtarach, he can then ascend and become powerful enough to face the other gods once again.

""Bastion." I raked my hungry eyes down his chiseled features. His tan skin and masculine body had my wolf panting-- Before I even finished observing, he let out a deep growl from his throat, grabbing onto my face and crashing his lips onto mine. I instinctively jumped into his strong arms, wrapping my legs around his muscular torso as he carried me with ease to the back wall. His eyes were deep black, and I could feel that mine were too by the way my wolf growled back at him in response. He didn't bother stopping and instead pushed me against the wallpaper with delightful force. It was as if his wolf was fighting me into submission, his hands tangling in my hair and gripping my @$$ simultan

AURORA My eyes were drooping already. I tapped the side of my head with my palm and tried to keep them open, waiting for Chloe's male models. I shook my head and forced my eyes open, but nothing worked. Three years away from alcohol and my tolerance level had become so bad. Two cups in and I was already very tipsy. The door opened and a Greek god stepped in. His abs were visible underneath the black silk shirt he wore, tucked into a pair of black-cut trousers. His hand stayed on his belt line as his eyes swept across the room.

Two tongues now, lapping and teasing his hole open, rimmed and worshipped until he was shaking, panting, hips jerking helplessly in the gods’ grip. “You’ll take us all,” said the fire god, dragging his cock along Kael’s lips. “One by one. Together. We’ll stretch you.” Kael’s mouth opened. His body betrayed every sacred oath. His tongue flicked out, tasting the first of them. Salty, hot, divine. The fire god groaned, threading his fingers through Kael’s hair and forcing him deeper, slowly, inch by inch. “Yes,” he growled. “That’s it, little priest. Open your throat.” And beneath him, behind him, inside him, the gods devoured.

A drunk, self-pitying smirk twisted his face. “Tell me,Kyra,” he slurred, swaying. “Do you think I’m a failure?” The smell of wine on his breath was strong. I didn’t have the patience for his drunken questions. My brows furrowed.“Why would you ask that?” He let out a bitter, empty laugh. “Why do the gods hate me?”he snarled, finishing his wine. “They ridicule me with what I want, then take it away.” I rubbed my temples. A headache was starting.