Messenger Of Death Novels & Stories

Chapter Five: The Exorcist’s Mercy The white light emanating from the Priest’s mace didn't feel like a blessing. It didn't feel like the warm, healing glow of a Sunday morning. It felt like a desert sun—blistering, dry, and soul-searing. It was a light designed to burn away the darkness, regardless of whether the person carrying that darkness survived the fire.

By the time dawn came, there was nothing left of the territory. Homes reduced to ash. Ground soaked in blood. Silence where life once thrived. The pack was gone. Destroyed from within. Miles away, a single messenger rode hard. Through forests. Across borders. Carrying only one purpose. The message. When he reached Alpha Kieran’s territory, he did not stop. He was allowed through immediately. His condition alone spoke of urgency. Kieran met him before he could even be announced. “What is it?” The messenger dropped to one knee, breath unsteady.

"A messenger. From the south. Ronan—" I felt the blood drain from my face. "Ronan is dead." "He was dead." Stellan's voice was grim. "But his pack isn't. And the messenger says—" He didn't finish. He didn't need to. The howl that rose from the edge of the camp told me everything. --- The messenger was young, barely more than a pup, her face pale, her body shaking. She had run through the night, through the forest, through the mountains. And when she reached the center of the camp, she fell.

His eyes met hers. Empty, hollow, nothing behind them. "Luna," he said. His voice sounded normal but felt hollow. "You should be sleeping." "What are you?" Lyra whispered. "A messenger." His lips moved but his face stayed eerily still. "Nothing more." "You're not alive." "No. Not in the way you mean." He pulled his wrist free gently. "But not dead either. Something in between." Lyra's heart pounded. "How is that possible?" "Magic. Very old. Very forbidden." He tilted his head like a curious bird. "Queen Seraphine needed messengers who couldn't be killed. Couldn't be bribed. Couldn't fail. So she made us."

It wasn’t what she thought it was. "There's something I need to...” I began speaking, but just before I could finish my statement, a loud bang echoed through the room, shifting everyone’s gaze to where the sound came from. Gasps echoed throughout the room. A messenger stood at the entrance, breathing heavily as though he had run across thousands of miles before he got there. And it wasn’t just an ordinary messenger. It was Grimshaw Voss, the bearer of bad news. Anytime he appeared, we all knew something terrible was about to unfold.

Panic rises as he considers if Anais has sent her. “I was told I am the messenger. The first two hid because the message would lead to you killing them. The second two sent me through fear you would kill the messenger.” Lucifer looks at her, sickened. Anais is dead. Why else would those he sent fear giving him an update?

Cassandra couldn't believe Zahn remembers her name as well as her address. "Oh, fuck. I was so scared!" Yells Cassandra to Zayn. They hug each other tightly. "Shush... I know you were scared. I was too." He assures her. "Well... I read the letter and I couldn't understand a bit of it. Did you?" "I did and it says it's a messenger. We are somehow messengers again. We have to prevent them from dying at the times mentioned." "Do you remember it? All the timelines?" "No, but I have the letter with me." Cassandra pushes her eyebrows together.

The intuitive to battle them off is strongly, but I hold back; this might be my one chance to turn the tide of this battle, and I can’t blow it presently, particularly if they aren’t around to murder me outright. “You ought to not be here, mortal,” one of the blessed messengers says, his voice booming over the purge field.

I thought marrying Chester meant finding a safe haven, but it turns out they just wanted to drain me dry. "They swapped my medication, made my condition worse, and even bought a massive life insurance policy for me. They were just waiting for me to die so they could cash in on the payout after all!" By the time I finished speaking, my voice was trembling with anger. My fists were clenched so tightly that my nails dug into my palms. Eleanor gently patted my back, trying to comfort me. "There's one more thing," she said after a brief pause. "We've also uncovered multiple organ trafficking contracts. Under the guise of charity, Dr. Callaghan used her clinic to house terminally ill patients whil

the messenger replied smoothly. “Continue,” Misha commanded, now sitting forward. “That – Successor…this is gossip from tired wolves who were lazing about outside a closed gate,” the runner remarked firmly. The two leaders of Bloodrayne remained silent. The messenger swallowed again. He raised his head slightly to gaze at his masters with hooded eyes. This messenger was the Head of the runners. After what had happened to his man the night before, all the others had been reluctant to deliver any more news from Lightmoon.