Emily Seraphim Novels & Stories

Emily lost it and harshly pushed her, Sera lost her balance and straight hit her head on the table. "Ahh!" she touches her head and saw blood. She was bleeding. "What do you think I am? I did everything for you... I raised you and loved yo-" Emily yelled. But suddenly Sera cut her off, "Love? Where is that love you are talking about? Why can't I see it?" Emily froze, a huge silence spread in the room.

Fragile, even. My chest contracts in a way that pisses me off. Her eyes lift and find mine. Blue meeting blue. The chapel disappears. For a second, it’s just us. She’s beautiful. The kind of beautiful that makes a man angry about it. My jaw ticks. My mouth goes dry. “I shouldn’t want her,” I mutter under my breath. Valerio hears. He always does. His lips twitch into a smirk. “Careful, amico,” he murmurs without turning his head. “Someone might think you’re human.”

"Who... Who sent this?" She made her way home to her place of residence as stated in the resume that states where she currently lives in. She wasn't sure who was using the mark it left behind every time Ivy kills. But she only has one thing to be sure of... She may not be the real killer, There is still something hidden in the dark that shows she is the killer because the letter 'A' is the meaning of her name. AMEIRA.

I liked it. That morning, the girl who sat next to me looked up from her sketchpad. “You’re Emma, right?” she asked. “Yeah,” I said, smiling a little. “And you’re Lilla.” She grinned. “Guess word gets around. Connor Adler’s friend, right?” I blinked, feeling my face warm. “We’re… kind of friends. I guess.” “Relax,” she said, laughing. “I’m not about to ask for his autograph or something. He’s cool, though. His sister Chelsea’s in my drama class—total natural.”

the brunette said nudging Roman who gave him a death stare. “good morning princess, sorry theses idiots are here, these are Harry and Elijah” Harry was a brunette with green eyes while Elijah was hazel eyed with tattooed skin. “guys, this is Camila” “she looks good and I’m sure she’s also good in...” Harry started to say but he was cut off by Roman digging his eyebrow into his stomach. Harry fell to the ground with a dramatic groan and Elijah rolled his eyes. I chuckled.

Claire is a cool, silent kind of girl whereas Eva is more outspoken and outgoing. Our first customer has arrived. Customer 1: "Hi I am Cristy and this is my friend Sarah. We would like to have a look at the trending seasonal outfits." I glanced at her. They didn't have wings. However, they had green eyes. sharp nose and red-colored lips. Sarah: "Hey girl. You don't have wings. What are you? Are you a witch like us? But your eyes are hazel and lips are pink. Are you a catgirl? My kitty will love to meet you" She asked me bluntly

Their smiling lovely, wearing a white dress, was my mate, Serafim. She looked exactly like the first time I met her, and she looks exactly like My Amare, Amilia. Honestly, every time I am with Amilia, I’m reminded of Serafim, but happily. Even though I know they are not the same person, their physical appearance, it’s the same.

“That’s what makes this so fucked.” That shut me up. Not because I disagreed. Because she was right. Emery had chosen me—again and again, even when I didn’t deserve it. Even when all I offered her was a fake picture of safety. I swallowed hard. “Where is she?” “She said she would be at a press brunch. Somewhere small, private, downtown. A chance to reclaim the narrative, I guess. Take her story back. On her own terms.” “That’s suicide,” I muttered. “They will devour her.”

I am my own. With a roar that split the wind, Emily stepped forward, her aura igniting in a brilliant fusion of silver and black. The remnants of the Abyss faltered at her defiance, unable to resist her will as she poured every ounce of herself into one final act. Energy surged outward, sweeping through the battlefield like a tidal wave, tearing through Lena’s constructs, scattering the Celestials, and destabilizing the Void Ritual itself.

The euphemism of affection drips with latent danger, and it sends a shiver down Demika’s spine. Selena stands frozen, her face a mask of accismus, pretending disinterest in the woman before her. But Demika sees it—the way her friend’s body tightens, the way her breath hitches for just a fraction of a second. Selena may have expected her, but that doesn’t make this moment any less harrowing. Demika is enthralled and unsettled. This is her first time seeing the legendary Seraphina—the epitome of vampyric power, the woman whom she’d spoken her name, only in hushed, reverent tones.