Green Reaper Novels & Stories

“You need a spear to kill a woman?” A Reaper stopped and stared at her, its lifeless eyes boring into hers. She didn’t know if it understood anything she was saying, but it slowly grinned and tossed its spear onto the ground. “That's it,” she whispered. “You want to take me on?” It stepped over Gabriel and raised its arms into a fighting stance. Focused on Aurora, it did not see Gabriel slowly reaching for the dagger concealed beneath the snow. As the Reaper took its final step, Gabriel rose up and buried the weapon deep into its back. It fell forward and black blood oozed out across the snow.

I faded out of consciousness. - “Father, are you sure we have to sell her? Why can’t we just sell her little bratty sister instead? I quite like her.” I could hear James’ whiny toned voice complain to his father. Sell me? I seriously thought Eric was just hearing things, but I still had given him the benefit of the doubt. I slowly opened my eyes, my vision still super blurry. I stayed silent. “We aren’t selling her yet, we are testing her blood to see if she will make our family pure again. She looks exactly like my great, great uncle’s daughter. I think she’s been reincarnated as Luna Allen.” Jonthan Greenwood said, pacing the floor.

The notion of this green-haired scion seeking to avenge his fallen brother was, admittedly, a tad amusing to me. But then, a voice beside me broke the silence, a gentle reminder that I was not alone in my observations. "The Green Family's bloodline art is one of the exceptional arts," the speaker murmured, "which can boost the growth and acquisition of strength, while also enhancing mana. They are the only ones who have a green aura. You should not take it lightly."

I hear myself say. Reaper closes his eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply, and when his eyes flutter open, they are the brightest hue of blue I have ever seen, the gray hiding somewhere behind his eyes. "You... are a... Virgin?" he asks his voice unsure. Feeling awkward, I nod. "Shit! Fucking shit!" Reaper cries out sliding out of me and I instantly feel the absence of his warmth above me. "I am sorry, Reaper. Calm down, I didn't think being a virgin will freak you out. I should leave," I say motioning towards the door.

With a determined in hale, I turned and walked into the open, hands raised, and waited for the storm. In a matter of seconds, dozens of boots thundered through the forest, Red dots painting my chest like a strawberry. A circle of rifles closed around me from all angles. I didn't move. A final car pushed through the trees, slower, deliberate, before rolling to a stop right in front of my shattered car. The back door opened. Malcolm Reece stepped out. He looked like he'd dressed for the occasion, perfect black suit, red tie like fresh blood, hair not one strand out of place. The smile he gave me was slow and ugly and victorious.

Let’s talk this out properly. Only for Mira to scream back, "Leave me alone! Unless I get the money today, I’m not moving!" "I’m right, aren’t I, everyone?! "And to those new joining the stream, check the links in the shop below! Don’t miss out!" That’s right. Mira had been livestreaming and selling products every day for the past week. Even if I didn’t pay her so-called emotional damages, she’d already made a fortune. When a reporter asked her to shut the stream down, she slapped the woman across the face. "Stay out of my business! My viewers deserve to see this live. I’m doing this for them!"

And right in the middle of it all—he waited. Jax. They called him Reaper—because death followed him like a shadow, a silent, inevitable companion. The kind of man who could kill with a glance and leave no trace but silence and a cold void where a life once was. The instant his eyes, obsidian chips of ice, sliced through the noise and landed on me, the world shrank to that frozen moment. My breath caught, a jagged shard in my throat. I knew—without a doubt—that I was standing in the eye of a storm, and I was the fragile thing about to be torn apart.

He's practically the devil,' I said to myself, knowing that I was trapped there forever. 'Goddess, what kind of life is this that you've planned for me?' I pleaded with her. The skies outside started to darken and thunder rumbled in the distance. It wasn't coincidental, it was symbolic. "How ironic. Thunder, lighting and heavy rainfall rolls right about when the Night Reaper loses his temper and attacks one of his own men. He has never and will never know what it means to be human. Cassian Grant is nothing else but the Night Reaper. A ruthless and murderous Alpha who lost his humanity ages ago."

had to see my own flushed face, my tear-streaked cheeks, and his massive body behind me “Look at yourself,” he ordered “Look at the last Crown daughter about to get her womb pumped full of superior seed.” I stared at our reflection trembling Reaper’s eyes met mine in the glass. His lips curled into a savage smile. “Now the real fun starts.” “Fuck… you’re splitting me,” I hissed, “That’s the idea,” Reaper rumbled. His free hand roamed again. His rough fingers traced my back then slid around to cup my breasts. He kneaded them and hit at my nipples until they were swollen and aching.

The players eyes widened in terror, as the three figures emerged from the shadows. Medusa stood tall, her hair writhing like snakes, each strand tipped with venomous fangs. Her eyes glowed like embers, piercing through the darkness. A stone-like mask covered her face, except for her full, crimson lips, curved into a wicked smile. The Reaper loomed beside her, his presence like a shadow cast over the land. His eyes were empty sockets, his skin gray and decaying. A black hood covered his face, and his tattered cloak billowed behind him. His blood streaked soulcutter was held firmly to his chest as though passing a silent warning.