God Apollo Mga Nobela at Kwento

The creature pulled slightly against the nylon towing straps, making the feathers on his wings rustle against the back of the mahogany chair. When the ropes held, he stopped struggling and looked up at them. His clear, non-human eyes settled on Amelia. “I am Arael,” he said, his voice deep and calm. “A messenger of the Upper Firmament.” Amelia wasn't impressed by the title. She kept her arms crossed, staring at him. Ready to detect if he wanted to trick them with his words.

, Apollo said lowly, his hands still roaming across her skin. “Then I am unworthy,” Adelaide answered softly. “No,” Apollo growled, “You are worth more than gods.” “Then heaven help me… yes. I like it.” Apollo’s eyes darkened to molten gold. He leaned forward and pressed a long, deliberate kiss just above her navel. Heat shivered outward in ripples. His lips parted. And he lowered his mouth to her belly button, kissing there, slow and lingering, before his tongue brushed lightly across the centre.

The cold water hit my skin but all I could feel was the heat building inside me. In the dream, I pulled out, flipped him over with his face down on the bed. Ass up. His shorts ripped away and skin bare. I spread his cheeks, licked him there and his moans filled the room. "Please," he begged. "Kieran... my god..." Yes. God. I was his God. I fucked my fist faster, water streaming down my chest an back. I leaned against the tile. Head tipped up. Moaned his name low. "Ezra..."

And then one thought came through clearly above everything else. Nobody knows I am here. Her phone was off. She had switched it off herself. There was a man the world called the War God. It wasn't just a nickname; it was a name earned through years of hard battles. His skills in a fight and his inner strength were beyond anything most people could imagine. His name was so well-known and so feared that just hearing it was often enough to end a conflict before it even started. Alexander Kane. He was thirty years old and stood six feet seven inches tall. He was built like someone who had spent his life doing things that required both great power and careful precision. He had short black hair an

"This is the Elysium Refuge. I'm in charge here." Elysium Refuge. I had heard that before. In the third year of the apocalypse, it became the largest and most stable human settlement known to exist. Rumor had it that it was equipped with a complete defense system, ample food supplies, and even had an ongoing research of the virus. "How did I..." I began, my voice hoarse. "Our scout team found you in the ruins," Iris said, her gaze studying me closely. "You were running a dangerously high fever. Your skin was cracked and healing in cycles. We almost thought you wouldn't make it."

Behind her, Below-Prayer opened wider. Divine names peeled from the little shrines under the freeway and flew into its mouth like moths. The Well Spirit shrieked. The Stove God cursed in three dialects. The system gave me an option so bright it hurt to see. [Total seizure authorized under wartime necessity.] [Targets: all dead contracts, Daniel Hart, minor gods in collapse radius.] [Projected result: Underworld Court rank increase.]

I decided to leave him alone and continue studying Apollo, who I assumed was Ylil. It was a good thing Miall took the time to teach me his language because all I was reading here would've flown over my head. Apollo was described as a powerful god who blessed everyone he came across. The way he was so bright and heavenly, people came to think of him as God. As I paged through the book, I came across a drawing that was not bright. It looked like Apollo was sitting in front of a temple, his eyes closed and a soft smile on his face. The name on the temple read Ylil, and my eyes widened.

The chair rolls and smashes against the wall behind me. Moon Goddess, you have got to be kidding me. Startled, Rhode jumps a little and blinks. “Uhm..Alpha, is something wrong?” “Wrong? This is wrong! That’s what is wrong! You can’t have Rhode as our mate! We do girls, we don’t do guys!” Apollo practically freaks out and screams at me, “Look into his eyes! Goddess, I swear I’ll kill myself if it is him! We can’t have anyone humping on our backs!”

She imagines the crows feet around his dark-chocolate brown eyes would be so endearing to look at– …and Proserpina hereby bids farewell to her peaceful morning. It is therefore ruined, no thanks to this moron. “Oh, but a god, my dear,” Apollo sighs, sappily, still droning on somewhere in the background, “…when a god shows their affections, their devotion, it will be unlike any other; our divine touch, the loveliest of smiles that no mortal could ever hope to reach and the favor of a heavenly being that we could only bestow upon one another was a blessing of the highest caliber–”

I asked, my voice struggling to hide the laughter and soon after, I giggled, accepting his humour and comedic genius, "you are quite the comedy genius, Master Abigor." He chuckled, capturing me in his arms as he held me close, bending over and placing his lips to my neck and I shivered, "I never joke, my Aphrodite," he whispered against my neck, the vibrations from his voice coursing through my body and causing a spark of desire in the lower parts of my stomach. "Immortality only exists for the Gods, Master Abigor," I told him, my hands reaching into his luscious hair and playing with the silky strands that I could never get enough of, "what do you speak of?"