Isabella Crow Novels & Stories

"That's what I am to him, isn't it? Just a mere inconvenience, a nuisance to be dismissed at his whim." Shadow let out a soft growl. *That's what it looks like to me. Can you just rest and stop stressing me* "I swear, Shadow, I will not be treated like this. I am Isabella, the daughter of a Deacon. I will not be cast aside like some common...some common maid!" Her voice cracked with rage and hurt. *And he's a dangerous Alpha. He won't think twice before killing you* Shadow warned. Isabella's anger slowly gave way to a cold determination.

Edward had killed her and made me believe I had been the one to murder her. And now, he wanted to do it again. But Isabella wasn’t Elena. She didn’t smile the same way. Didn’t move through the world like she belonged to anyone. She had edges Elena never did. She didn’t pretend to be unbreakable. She just kept going, even when she was. She was stronger than all of us, and maybe that was why he came back. A chair dragged across the floor and I raise my head, only to see that it was Isaac. He was holding an expensive bottle of wine. He poured us both a drink and sat.

But Isabella doesn't shiver or falter in her determined stride. She hungers with ravenous intention. She knows exactly where she's going—deep beneath the sacred heart of the coven. To the forbidden chamber where the Orb of the Dark Lord pulses with ancient, forbidden energy, sealed away from those deemed too weak or too foolish to touch its corrupted surface. But Isabella is neither weak nor foolish in her estimation. She's no longer just a reckless, desperate girl seeking vengeance. She's something far more dangerous—a woman with purpose, power, and nothing left to lose.

Even though cleared of suspicions for now, as quickly as Isabella sucks the blood of a human other than Raven, that middle member of the Supernatural Investigations Section could simply purpose that gun chambered with silver bullets at her without hesitation. Looking into Isabella's beyond become in the long run simply part of her investigation -- handiest for the reason of organising the right coverage closer to the risk of the 'True Original'-magnificence vampire, Isabella Knight. "...I do not definitely care approximately that. Yes, I do need to retrieve my recollections however being impatient may not assist. Besides, I by no means desired to rely upon the ones human beings withinside th

ISABELLA I watched the sun rise on my wedding day with dry eyes and a hollow feeling in my chest. Sleep had been impossible, so I'd spent the night in my studio, finishing the commission that had seemed so important just days ago. Now the completed canvas leaned against the wall, a stranger's work created by a woman who no longer existed. By noon, Isabella Caldwell would disappear, replaced by Isabella Blackwood,wife of a man who had orchestrated her family's destruction.

Dante’s hand went to his sidearm. Isabella, my mother’s most trusted advisor — and the one I thought dead in the purge. “I never left,” she said softly. “I was the shadow in Giordano’s downfall.” Her eyes locked onto mine, burning with secrets. “And now,” she continued, “I’m here to make sure you don’t burn this crown down.” Because the fight was far from over. Alessia stared at Isabella, the weight of her words hanging in the air like thick fog.

He took prophecies seriously and this shook his bones to the core. "What could the prophecy be?" He asked, pacing round the throne room. I shrugged, my brain working in overtime. Isabella the witch felt insulted when she last came, unhappy that I had invited her all the way for a rogue princess. I still had to make it up to her, so I wasn't sure if she would be willing to help once more. "Let's call Isabella. " I finally decided, instructing Connor. Immediately he called her, a black mist appeared in the throne room, Isabella materialising in our presence. Isabella was a young witch with raven black hair and a slender build. She was beautiful, like many witches, but with a horrid temper.

Isabella led an army of the most lethal assassins money can hire, and they are all females. Turns out Alberto had gotten on Isabella's bad side, and he has been on the run from her, for a while. "Mmm... you're looking more handsome than the last time we met." She said, closing in for a hug. Compared to Emilia, Isabella appears to be way smaller in size, but still manages to hug so tightly. She sure has a lot of energy. "How have you been, sugar?" She asked, finally pulling away to cup my cheeks and look up into my eyes.

Then came the horn. The ground trembled. Flames that had curled into submission now rose anew. And from the northern ridge of Ember Hollow, Isabella arrived. Her cloak was gone. Her hair unbound. Her eyes no longer mortal. The Hollowborn flanked her—not in flesh, but in presence. Spectral warriors of flame and light hovered behind her, each bearing the mark of the first rebellion. Catherine stood. Her confidence flickered. "You came to die with him?" Isabella did not answer. She raised her hand—and the sky wept silver fire.

A single, matte-silver spotlight from a circling gunship fixed on the center of the terrace, and there, stepping out of the shadows of the collapsed ballroom, was a figure that shouldn't have been able to draw breath. It was Isabella. Not the digital ghost, not the hollow Heir, but Isabella in the flesh—or a terrifyingly perfect recreation of it—wearing the same silk gown she had been buried in, her eyes glowing with a calm, predatory silver. "I told you the house was built on salt, Dante," Isabella said, her voice a melodic, terrifying echo that seemed to come from the city itself. She didn't look like a victim. She looked like the Architect’s final, most successful experiment. "But I never