Merlin From Seven Deadly Sins Novels & Stories

Zeus’ highly annoyed tone reached our ears, the god currently holding me so painfully tight though completely ignoring him, until a different, strikingly familiar voice suddenly echoed across the entire arena, “I’m afraid I cannot let you do that.” A small spark of hope flickered inside of me at the mere sound of that specific voice, instantly recognizing it, even though I only heard it once before. “And why is that?” “Because, that very soul, my godly friend, contains one of the Seven Deadly Sins. And guess which one it is.” Everyone fell deadly silent for a few fleeting moments, their dumbfounded stares directed somewhere past us, obviously shook just as much as I currently felt after that

Because I was a corridor staff member with fabricated papers from Ruen who had spent a year engineering proximity and the Emperor of the Aurelian continent could not choose the girl who sorted letters at his east garden gate. I knew this. I had always known this. The golden threads burned in my chest with the specific, devastating patience of twelve years' worth of certainty — and for the first time since I was seven years old on a fence post watching him pass through my village, the certainty felt less like knowledge and more like a wound. The senior household steward stepped forward. "His Imperial Majesty has made his selection." Silence. Total. Five hundred people not breathing. "Lady Ser

She licks her lips, smirks, then winks at me before turning to face Meredith, nearly toe to toe. “Did I forget to share anything?” Montana taunts. “Ask me.” Meredith leans around Montana to look in my direction. “You’ll have your hands full with this one.” I’m not sure how to take that from her. For one, Meredith is a type A personality, works twenty-four-seven, and wins most of her pissing matches. Does she mean it as a compliment that she sees Montana as an equal? Or does she mean Montana’s behavior is out of line, and she will cause trouble for me and my band?

Demetrius had this gleam in his eyes, knowing that she was asking questions that she didn't want to know the answers to, that maybe Arianna shouldn't if she wanted to have any restraint. Demetrius' eyes darkened for a split second before he said, "Thousands of years ago, Merlin was a powerful witch that was part of a coven named, 'The Seniorem Coven'. Merlin made an immortality elixir for him and his fiancée who was apparently a wolf to drink so they could be together for eternity. It turned out to be a trick when Merlin drank the elixir with Amara the wolf, which made him the first MONGREL, the wolf and the witch. Merlin' plan to live forever with Amara hit the fan when a vampire named Adon

Merlin never would have dreamt that the first person he would see after opening his eyes upon coming back from the dead would be someone who claimed to be Ashley’s son. This caused Merlin, who was a police officer, to question this immediately. So, he calmed down and analyzed, “Why do I feel that I should already be dead? At that time, I remember that a group of thugs dressed in black shot at me from the elevator as soon as the elevator door opened... The group of thugs’ firepower was very fierce, and they basically did not hesitate at all. Before I lost consciousness, I remember that I was shot at least twenty to thirty times. I should have been f*cking dead a long time ago. Even God could

Where the magic hit, her skin repaired itself before our eyes. Hellion ran a hand over her hair, his touch as gentle as the look in his eyes. "I hope she hasn't poisoned you against me, niece. You are destined for more than an ignoble death at the hands of lesser beings than Directs. You are meant to shine." With his last word, the motes flared to bright golden life. Her eyes opened as she took her first breath. Gold mingled with the pure silver mercury of her eyes as power flooded her.

She immediately shook the feeling off, and placed the blame on incomplete data. I’m never wrong, she thought to herself. The data never lies. But it didn’t matter how much she refused to look at the truth of it, the damage had been done. Her foundations now had a crack in it, and instead of continuing to face it, she decided to deflect. As usual. “High Templar Merlin!” she yelled out. “Take care of this traitor!” Then, she winked off Sin’s comms and vanished. Merlin’s holoprojection appeared in her place only moments later. Being a refugee, his handsome dark-skinned face hadn’t aged. Except now it was marred by criss-crossed scars. The same scars peeked out from beneath the edges of his unif

Taliesin sent the message off with a heavy heart. While his judgment was sound and he knew he wasn’t wrong, the likelihood that it would all go to plan was slim. Curses laid by the dying or the dead were harder to get rid of than living curses and he was not an expert in such dark magics. He had no affinity for creating or breaking them. His late brother and twin, Merlin, had no such limitations, but he had gone into Eternal Repose after his wife, Viviane, had been killed in the war against Morrigan.

His crown, the real one, the one he'd worn my whole life without me knowing what it cost, sat crooked on his head. He looked smaller than I remembered. "You knew," I said. "This whole time. You knew what I was." "I knew what you could become." "And you tried to kill me anyway." "I tried to stop what was coming." His voice cracked on the last word. "You have no idea what she'll do to this kingdom once she wakes fully. The first moon isn't kind, Mercy. She isn't gentle. She burns." "Then maybe this kingdom needs to burn." The words left my mouth before I could stop them, and I felt Timothee flinch beside me.

Numb and transparent, much like the growing apathetic gloss to amethyst orbs. The denim stepped back, a glint of metal piercing through the dense landscape as Damon tried to scramble backwards, his tiny fists raw and bleeding as they hovered over his face in an act of self-defense. Silver lashes folding downward to mask his fear as laughter rang in his ears. "...Just as I thought..." Leaves crunched all around him, and the black ankle boots Damon adorned on occasion drew to his shivering body in haste. Why was he so numb? Why did everyone hate him? He peeked out from beneath his lashes to trail his gaze over the twisted grins hidden beneath the fog, cerulean eyes, smoldering brown, children'