Hellbound Heart Novels & Stories

He would keep the house and his car in case we ever choose to come back so that we would have a place to stay. “Now focus,” Damien said as his blue eyes stared into my hazel eyes. “Let out your demon and focus on where you want to go,” our hands were together and we stood in the clean living room. I looked at the ground at our feet and focused my eyes until I could see a speck of dust on the hard wooden floors, telling me that I successfully let out my inner demon and it was now time to attempt my teleporting into Hell. I took a deep breath and focused on the things that Damien had told me about Hell, about the Garden, and I imagined myself surrounded by fire and screaming souls. Why did I f

How do I shamelessly admit that I feel a deep, never-ending hollow in my chest, just at the mere thought of not seeing him again, of not seeing what he looks like anymore, and not even touching him. How do I explain that my heart is burning with pain at the thought of someone else touching me in ways that could never be my captor’s, and looking at me with those stone cold dark eyes that looks at me like it sees everything and knows every little detail about me, even when he can’t hide how clueless he is about the sort of creature that I am. April was right, and I am a shameless old hag. I tried to pull myself together, and since there was no other way forward than the one that was already pl

The reason my heart beats, the reason I can breathe, the only thing that keeps the darkness from swallowing me whole. The only force strong enough to keep me from becoming the monster the world has made me.

The sensation of a heart turning to stone is not a sudden numbness. It is a slow, rhythmic agony of friction. Every time my left ventricle contracted to pump blood through my body, I felt the microscopic grind of quartz crystals forming along the myocardial wall. Silas was right about the biology of the Palace. The Elder resonance was too dense for a mature human vascular system. To channel the power of a god, you had to become the altar.

Scarlett seemed to remember something and immediately told them to let me go. Seth pointed at me in frustration. "Scarlett, don't let Ron fool you. He's the one who's acting. "I barely tapped him three times and he's acting like he's dying. Who's he trying to fool?" The moment he finished speaking, I collapsed to the ground, unable to support myself. Blood seeped through my white shirt, spreading across my back in a dark red stain. The onlookers gasped in shock. "Ron, are you okay?"

The radioactive glow in his veins had died down to a dull, bruised purple, pulsing erratically like a failing neon sign in a deserted alley. Through our fractured mate-bond, I didn't feel a king's unyielding fury anymore. I felt an empty, freezing vortex. He was slipping. The virus and my corrupted void magic had combined into an artificial heart-start, but now the biological tax was due. His human heart was giving out. "He’s not going to make it to the border," a smooth, hated voice cutting through the dark cabin made my blood boil.

Tapping a button on my phone, light brightens the room, Liam’s figure filling the doorway, blocking the space beyond. Perching on the edge of the desk, I wait for him to enter. To speak. To knock me back into the unforgiving surface and drive a dagger into my heart. Or even his dick into my core. That would be preferable to the knife. Despite what many think of demons, we aren’t actually dead, not really. Our souls belong to the devil, but our bodies are held in a suspension of life, something like a purgatory. It means, like any other creature, we can die, we can procreate, we need nourishment. We’re not as different as the other creatures of the world may think. But lore is strong when you

Mama has always hated my eye colours; she said it looked demonic. DON'T FEEL. I scream when she drags me by the hair, the pain is blinding. She is taking me to the store, I hate it there. She pushes me inside ignoring my continuous Pleading. "The fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone, which is the second death." She looks at me one last time before shutting the door, I shriek when I hear the lock sound.

"Just a day. Why would you want to know, if I may ask, Miss?" He cocked his head at me. "Is there a cure for it?" I asked him, ignoring his question. "The victims can be saved if treated early enough. But once the poison reached the victim's heart, the creature can not be saved from death." "You have to leave now Lila! We don't have much time left." Amber urged me and I left immediately. "Miss! The Zeta doesn't agree with you leaving the room. Miss!" Cyrus yelled after me but I ignored him, dashing out of the room.

At the center of the chamber… Suspended in midair by glowing roots and veined magic… Was a heart. Not a metaphor. Not an illusion. No, it was a literal, beating heart. Golden. But split. The right side of it shimmered like pure sunlight, clean and soft and healing. The left side… twisted. Veins blackened with rot. A slow corruption pulsing through it like tar in honey. The corruption bled upward along the roots holding it in place, darkening the magic that kept it suspended.