Real Devil Wings Novels & Stories

Wolves collided with the shadows of those wings, thrown across the room as blood and instant death erupted. Vivica froze, eyes wide, her chest rising as she watched the devil himself descend upon them. The dark blue aura surrounding him pressed against her burning skin, sending a thrill along her heated skin, and desire, through her. All the rumors about him turned out to be true. He was the Devil. The real Devil. Finn stepped forward deliberately, each movement slow, lethal, deliberate. He stopped just in front of her, the room now deathly silent except for the beat of her pulsing heat.

It had a small black handle with a long blade, the blade had swirls and spots of black and white mixing together ad it was glowing. I smiled and looked at the sky, Whatever this place, or timeline, or whatever this is, I will not let it go to waste. I flew straight up as some feathers detach themselves from the wing linings, I looked around for someone, ANYONE needing help. Then I saw it...Someone fight a tall, short-haired, red-eyed demon, with blood-red wings and I had a feeling it was Yaotzin, my Damien, My devil. So, I lunged forward and did a high kick with my leg straight upright on the chin and looked at Yaotzin then smiled a bit. He laughs a bit after coughing up some blood "Guess yo

I asked. Devon walks away from me a little but he's still facing me. Then as if it's magic, he brings out his pair of majestic wings. I almost got blinded by how bright they are. Just like how angels are described from my religion class before. His shoulder-length wavy brown hair flows neatly. I just noticed that he's still wearing his angel's white clothes. It looks like what Hercules was wearing from a Disney movie. His muscles are bulging and I can see that his thighs are also toned. I wonder if he's wearing any underwear.

Heads snapped toward the voice on that frozen battlefield, toward a tear in the void that rippled open like a wound of pure darkness and blinding white flame. A silhouette stepped through first. Tall, terrifying, wings, the color of dark void with gold and red highlights on its edges, a mix of primordial void, blood, hell, and burning divinity. Lucifer. His wings spread wide, casting a shadow to devour the battlefield and a radiance to drown out the moonlight. His eyes now burned with a deeper, older power none had seen since the First War.

“And say it like you mean it, or I’ll skin the lot of you.” We dropped to our knees in unison, foreheads pressed to the wet stone. The words were carved into every slave’s tongue the first night. “Oh hail Alpha Devil Vuk, firstborn of Lucifer and Selene, flame-crowned king of the North. May your enemies bleed. May your seed be endless. May your wrath be eternal. We are nothing. You are all.” My lips moved, but no sound came. I couldn’t breathe the words anymore. Not when every syllable tasted like damnation.

The underground gambling den smelled of cigar smoke and old money, humming with the sound of shuffled cards, clinking chips, and muffled curses. Viviana descended the concrete steps without hesitation, heels clicking against the cold floor. She was dressed in sleek black leather pants that hugged her curves like a second skin, paired with a crimson satin blouse tucked in just right, its buttons teasingly open near her collarbone. Her dark hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail, green eyes sharp, confident, and hungry.

, I smirked. " You", he started. "Guys! Is this something to brag about? You both are Crazy", Drake looked amused!! "Shut up!", Me and the devil said unison. Drake laughed hard!!! What Drake???? "Drake why are you here?", I questioned. "He is too joining us in this one", the devil answered for him. "WHAT? And why the hell you are letting me know now", I glared at Noah. " It slipped my mind", he rolled his eyes at my question.

”Nice flowers.” Wendy commended as soon as Rebecca entered the room. Rebecca on the other hand didn’t pay attention to what was said. She was lost in a world of her own thought. She didn’t see the face of the biker, but from the sound of his voice, she could tell who it was. It was a voice she would recognize anytime, any day. The voice of the devil who haunts her in her dream. A pat on the shoulder brought her back to reality. She jerked and the flower slipped from her hands, but Wendy caught it before it could fall to the floor.

DOOM’S POV My shoulder still throbbed like a bastard, but I refused to let it show. I swapped my usual suits for a simple black shirt and a pair of tailored shorts, unbuttoned just enough to tease. It was warm tonight, and Sally liked casual Doom, something about seeing the devil without armor made her smile, maybe because it made her feel closer. The dining room lights were dimmed low, casting a golden warmth across the mahogany table. Candlelight flickered beside the fine china, and soft instrumental jazz hummed from the walls. I had told the staff to stay far away, tonight was ours.

Ayra lunged at the window and froze, her breath fogging the cold pane. Below, the driveway bloomed with black SUVs, tires screaming as they skidded to a stop. Doors flung open. Men spilled out like ants from a split nest—dark coats, ballistic masks, rifles already raised. Two helicopters thundered above, the downdraft rattling the windowpanes. Their rotors slashed the air like blades. And then she saw the glint. Not one—three. Snipers, positioned on rooftops across the street, their long barrels catching the afternoon light.