Fallen Book Novels & Stories

“You left this behind.” “How? What?” Amilia stammered. “You were busy with other things so I figured that I’ll just pick this up for you,” the Fallen shamelessly said. “I mean, you were supposed to be somewhere, right? What are you doing here?” Amilia looked around her but there was no other being in sight aside from the both of them. She looked at the Fallen again and to the grimoire in his hands. She walked up to him and tried to get the book but the Fallen was quick to dodge her hand and raised the book. Because he was taller than her, reaching it would be a problem.

It happened too quickly and she faded into the book. The book fell to the ground and vanished.

MAYOR LARRY’S POV I stood in the basement of the Fallenstars mill, the air thick with damp rot and the coppery stench of blood. The full moon’s light filtered through cracked windows, casting pale streaks across the stone floor. My hands trembled as I adjusted the silver basin, its edges glinting under the glow. Rourke hung from chains against the wall, his head slumped, blood dripping from a gash on his wrist into the basin below. Silas dangled beside him, his gray hair matted with sweat, his breathing shallow. Lucien lay on a cot in the center, still as death, his chest barely moving. The book—Olivia’s book—sat open on a crate, its pages yellowed and curling, the Latin words staring back a

asked Jacob, looking confused by what had happened. “She, she got scratched by that monster, Jacob. She sacrificed for all of us,” Zoya replied as she continued to cry. Jacob was silent for a moment and looked around the area. “Where are Eren and Ben? I didn't see either of them,” Jacob asked curiously. "Ben, Ben is dead..." Zoya answered quietly. Jacob's eyes immediately bulged and he fell silent. He couldn't believe that Ben was dead. Jacob was so shocked to hear that his best friend had died.

This is Book Two of the Demonic Angels Trilogy, this book will not make sense unless you read ‘Alpha’s Fallen Angel’ first. Thank you guys for reading and for all the support! Aylin is by far my favorite character of mine, so I’ve been looking forward to this book for quite awhile! Enjoy :)

Her heart ached in ways words could not describe. She pressed her hand to her chest, feeling the rhythm of her pulse. The world had moved on. She had moved on. But her heart… her heart refused to. PART 2 WHEN SILENCE SPEAKS LOUDER THAN WORDS The library smelled of old paper and polished wood, a quiet refuge from the city outside. Maya traced her fingers along the spines of books, pretending she was lost in research, but she knew exactly who had entered moments ago. Ethan.

Instinctively, I clutched my belly, my voice barely a whisper. “Hospital… take me to the hospital.” Dario looked down at me, irritation clouding his eyes. “It’s just a fall. Is that really necessary? Get up. You’re not a child. Stop pretending to be so fragile.” But the pain kept getting worse. I couldn’t even form words anymore. Maybe it was the sweat pouring down my face, or the fact that I couldn’t raise my head, but for the first time, a flicker of panic flashed across Dario’s face.

[The Architecture of Ruin] The weight of his fingers bruising my hip was the only solid thing left in a world that had dissolved into a sea of absolute, screaming crimson. Sitting on the lap of a god who no longer knew how to love me, I realized that the cage hadn’t disappeared when the Spire fell—it had simply expanded to enclose the entire human race.

I voiced out. "And whose fault was that?" she said glaring at me. Your psychotic mind, I mumbled beneath my breath, just then she decided to drop one of her crutches, she tried to make it look like an accident but failed miserably. She's going to be the death of me, mumbled before adding a string of curse words to the statement. I hurried over to her and supported her falling figure by putting my hand around her waist leading her to the nearest table. I ignore how right it felt to place my hand around her waist or how she seemed to fit perfectly in my arms every time I carry her. I went to pick up the fallen crutch and made my way back to her.

The necklace, still faintly glowing, felt heavy against her chest as if it, too, held secrets waiting to be uncovered. She made her way downstairs quietly, avoiding the bustling kitchen where Rose was likely preparing breakfast. Instead, she sought solace in the library, a sanctuary of knowledge and quiet contemplation within the main house. The shelves were lined with ancient tomes and volumes on supernatural lore, each holding a promise of insight into the world beyond human understanding. Andrea pulled out a dusty book on werewolf mythology, flipping through its pages in search of any mention of beings like her—half-human, half-something else.