Isaiah 40 31 Novels & Stories

Isaiah said, standing on the Rock two meters away from her. Isabella breathed out again, closing her eyes, she emptied her mind from all thoughts and feelings, she relaxed herself and meditated. Isaiah watched her keenly, her hair danced around with the wind. Her face was so soft and smooth,she looked so beautiful— No he had to distract himself from her. Sitting on the rock, he brought out his flute. He closed his eyes, and started blowing the flute, the melody soothe the atmosphere. He blew the flute reminiscing happy memories of his family.

***This is the third installment of the ‘His’ Series. There are characters in this book that is mentioned in books one and two. If you haven’t read those books, some of the background information might not make sense. Please enjoy! Leave comments and reviews! I do read them!*** Isaiah POV

Or not? Isaiah 41:10 Says, " Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand. " **** A/N : Enjoying the book so far, guys?

"Look at me, Shyne." "Isaiah 41:10 Fear not, for I am with you; Be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, Yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand." I read the verse aloud as my heartbeat was beating faster than I thought was possible. I felt an awful urge to throw up my dinner, and the dark presence didn't help me to calm down. However, as I repeated the bible verse three more times, the voice stopped. I was able to release a deep sigh as my body began to relax.

Isaiah nodded gently, her expression serene and professional. Ding! The elevator chimed softly as it halted at their designated floor, the doors sliding open with a whisper. Isaiah followed her boss out, trailing him until he came to a stop right in front of the imposing CEO's office door, its polished surface gleaming under the fluorescent lights. He pushed the door open with a decisive motion, but just before he could step fully inside, Isaiah piped up first, her voice laced with polite concern. "Sir, you've seemed awfully spaced out today, lost in thought—and your mood feels so complicated, like there's a storm brewing behind those eyes."

he said, passing the papers across the room. I could feel the eyes of my men on me, bit ILyla Isaiah’s hands shook around the device as the rlm fell into a deathly silence. “Sorry,” he chuckled. “Can't do that.” “Achilles,” I rolled my eyes at the pussy, “I need to do this.” Achilles studied me silently, then nodded. I took the phone from Isaiah, and dialed the digits I had learnt since I was 10. The phone rang for a second, then clicked. “Hello?”

Let me guess: something about Lucifer's grand plan, how he betrayed you all, how it's your time now, how there's going to be a reckoning? I really hope you're going to mention the word reckoning by the way because let's face it, every great speech of every mad bastard should contain a reckoning, right? Isaiah started that trend and he was a total fucking loon. Of course, he had to be to write sixty-six chapters of such utter spoon-fed bullshit, but that's what happens when you give a man a stage and an audience. Come on, Azazel, don't keep your audience waiting.' Blake pursed his lips, his cheeks spotting with an anger that he quickly quashed.

“Isioma, you're the best. I really needed to hear that. Thank you.” “Of course.” Isioma squeezed his hand gently, her smile broadening. “So what do you say? Let's do this?” “Yes, let's do it. I'm ready to be born again, to start afresh.” “That's the spirit!” Isioma cheered him on. “Come on, let's bounce! Salvation calls!” __________

ISAIAH There was a coldness in the air that crept into my bones. I stood in the clearing, the stone altar behind me throb with soft ancient power. It was empty in the forest as if the creatures had sensed the darkness coming and had run away. To keep myself grounded while I waited, my fingers touched the edge of the altar. And then he was there. Azure condensed into some sort of shape out of the shadows, his form ebbing in and out of the shadows that surrounded him. Beyond his heavy presence—a weighing down on the soul—his eyes blazed with supernatural light. "Isaiah," he blew, his voice rumbling low like some sort of quake from the earth itself. "You're quite good for a man who's spent cent

Isaiah's calls grew distant, his grip weakening, as the world around me started to blur. Suddenly, a sharp pain erupted from my palm—the same spot where the mark of the prophecy had been etched. It glowed a brilliant white, casting an otherworldly illumination. As I raised my hand, the ethereal tune became louder, and clearer, almost as if the two were connected. The light from my palm began to coalesce, shaping into an ancient, intricate symbol we hadn't seen before. It was both haunting and mesmerizing. Isaiah, pulling from reserves of strength and determination, managed to break through the force that held me. He reached out, grabbing my arm, and the glowing symbol seemed to recognize him