Novel & Cerita Mist Breathing Demon Slayer

My hands are molded to the twins arms, I couldn’t let go if someone tried to rip my hands off. Both twins heave forward, dragging me with them. All of us hit the floor on our knees, then a black mist starts to pull from their mouths, like a demon leaving their bodies. It swirls up and away from us. I don’t know how long this goes on for but I can feel my energy being forcefully drained out of me, through my hands and into their arms.

She ran, her heart pounding, her mind racing. She burst into the hallway and collided with a solid figure. Strong hands steadied her, and she looked up to see Damon, his dark eyes filled with concern. "Aqua, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice gentle. She couldn't speak, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Damon led her to a quiet corner, away from prying eyes. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly, his hand resting on her shoulder. "Just breathe." Aqua struggled to calm herself, the storm inside her raging. But Damon's presence was grounding, and his touch was soothing. Slowly, the pendant around her neck began to clear, and the black smoke dissipated.

Yup, definitely a halfling. With a sigh she flopped back down on the bed, her mind racing. Last night had been both incredible and terrifying. It shocked her that she'd not only responded to the demon but had actually begged him. She'd even screamed his name during orgasm. "Arg!" She rolled over, blushing furiously and burying her burning face against her pillow. She didn't even know the demon or what he looked like. Victoria bit her lip, remembering the feel of his strong body pressed against her, moving inside her, his low growls in her ear.

Pain hit my chest so hard I collapsed, gasping, clutching at my heart as if I could physically tear out the source of the agony. The mate bond that had been dormant, that had been silent since Lanvin's supposed death, suddenly roared to life with intensity that was impossible to ignore or contain. It was fierce and undeniable burning through every nerve ending in my body. Mist curled around me, glowing like silver fire. The Mistborn power responding to the bond, responding to something I did not understand. The air grew cold and electric, charged with energy that made my hair stand on end. Through the mist, a figure appeared walking slowly more of like limping slightly, bloodied and scarred

Seeing him so sad gives me so much pain that I had to open my eyes. To my surprise, the chanting has stopped. The shadows are no longer moving. And my arms are nearly free, but my joints are aching so bad that I almost pass out. I’m lying on the bed, sweating bullets, and Deimos is still standing above me. I try to move, but my body is limp. “At last,” Deimos whispers, then he bares his teeth and leans in to bite my neck.

I want to be a part of it, and it makes me feel sick, but it also turns me on. Until the slug-like demon slides across the floor towards her, and she starts screaming hysterically as it gets close to her. I feel sick for her as the Fallen Angel moves, so the creepy thing can touch her. I can only stare in horror as it reaches its stubby hand and runs it up her silky thigh. My beautiful mate screams again and then falls unconscious in the arms of my enemy. When he swings her into his arms and carries her into another room, and then the red mist descends.

He is the alpha of Ironclaw though, and I trust him as my mate. The auras of everyone in the room showed clear uncertainty, except for one. She is an older woman with ties to Birch. I don’t have anything concrete against her, though. On the surface, she looks clean. Her name is Misty Whitaker. She has brown hair with a Bride of Frankenstein streak on the right side. Her skin looks flawless but aged. Like parchment paper that’s never been used. You can see the grooves, but it still looks crisp. Her eyes are blue with a hint of brown, and her lips are thin. She is of a thin frame, but she still looks in shape. Her aura is mocking. She is looking at me like I have some nerve.

I scream, but no sound comes out. Suddenly, the wraiths descend upon me, their hooked talons digging into my shoulders, pinning me down. One, their leader, looms over me, its jaw unhinging to reveal rows of needle-sharp teeth. I make another desperate, stupid attempt to scream. Suddenly, bright golden light engulfs me. A silhouette leaps from the void, wielding a sword, and goes after the demons. He moves with a lethal, fluid grace I’ve never seen. With a single, sweeping motion of his hand, a wave of light blasts the wraiths backward, turning them into ash.