Realistic Devil Wings Novels & Stories

He only knew that he was in shock. Gerand's dark and sharp eyes seemed to take over the entire world and Regi's consciousness. Since the first meeting, Regi has indeed not denied the charming appearance that Gerand has. A combination of gods and angels at once. Very gorgeous. Then when Gerand pulled Regi's body too, the woman did not react as it should. The person's body looks like a robot being tuned. "Are you alright?" Regi still didn't speak before Gerand clicked his fingers right in front of the woman.

I shoved him back, tail lashing, and straightened my silk. “Feelings are for people who can afford them,” I said coolly. “I have work to do.” He let me go without another word. I slipped through the shadows toward the elder wing, the scent of blood still clinging to the air like a promise. Darius would want to hear about this. The Devil losing control at his own feast—severing limbs in front of half the dominion’s elite. Perfect ammunition. And if my report came with a few… embellishments?

“What do you want from here, Pyro?” “Wow, right to the point. I’m looking for this girl right here that I found out by one of the females here that she’s going by the name Angel here.” I looked at the picture to see that indeed it was Angel, but why is he looking for her. “What do you want with her?” “She’s the property of the Burning Devils, and I want her back right now or things are going to get hot in here.” I looked to Levi to single to him that I need to speak to him alone.

Chapter 6: The Kiss That Broke The Devil Lucian Devlin stood in the marble-tiled hallway, his silhouette commanding beneath the golden chandelier’s glow. He was carved from perfection, tall and devastating in a tailored black suit that clung to his broad shoulders and tapered waist like it had been stitched directly onto his body. Crisp white shirt, black tie, polished leather shoes. Immaculate. Effortless. Dangerous.

Raising both hands, I targeted his chest and sent ice straight towards his heart, but he used fire to melt it before it reached him. "It's my turn now," he said, his eyes shifting from brown to red. He transformed into a devil, sporting two horns on his head, veins crisscrossing his face, and his once-smooth white skin turning dark and hideous. His nose elongated into a pointed shape, and he grew taller than his normal height. Wings sprouted from his back, making him appear part dragon and part human. A crown of fire encircled his head, and he looked terrifying. I knew I was going to fight a devil, but I hadn't expected it to be this horrifying.

' 𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝒊𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒂 𝒖𝒈𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓

Emily. But not the Emily they had lost. She stood in the ritual chamber, vines hanging like curtains around her. Her body was thinner, unnaturally elongated, as if stretched by invisible hands. Her eyes were twin voids, bleeding sap. And behind her… something shifted. Not the forest. Not Halloway’s ghosts. Something older. Something with wings made of bark and bone. Devon hadn’t slept. For the third night in a row, he found his hands raw and bloodied, black dirt under every fingernail. His sketchpad was full again, page after page of impossible things: circles of antlers, spiraling trees with screaming mouths, and a throne made of spines.

Her reaction was immediate. Her eyes widened in terror as she stared at the image. Slowly, shakily, she lifted her hand and pointed at it. “T-th-is… h-he… i-is a d-dev-il,” she stuttered. “B-b-ad… m-man.” A chill crawled down my spine. “Yes,” I nodded firmly. “He is a bad man. Have you ever seen him with your daughter?” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked around the room, panic flooding her face.

The vampire was looking at the devil as if to a psychopath " well let's see how much more cuter my dear daughter can get" says the devil and got his wings out and started flying toward Celea

I could feel the anger rising in her; with a frustrated scream, she exposed her glorious angelic wings, one bright white, tinged with shimmers of light, the other breath-taking ebony tainted with luscious obsidian tips. They were remarkable. In one strong swop of her razor-sharp wings, she cut away at the demonic hands that tore at her before she lifted from the ground and took off in the air following the sounds of the cries. Even in her dream, her wings were remarkable; watching as she flew toward the flames, a cunning grin crawled across my lips; at the centre of her wings, the black and white feathers mixed and entwined, a marble effect painted each feather. Showing that she was not as c