Rhysand Cassian Azriel Novels & Stories

Rosalyn spoke in such a calm tone, repeating her words, balancing herself despite the shaking ground. Elias stepped in front of me instinctively. Xavier’s wolf exploded forward, gold bleeding into his irises, dominance slamming into the floor so violently even Elias staggered. “Valerie,” he gritted out, voice low, feral, lethal. “Behind me. Now.” But I couldn’t move. Because her power, Lisa’s power, rolled through me like ice water and wildfire intertwined, crawling up my spine, into my lungs, into the marrow of my bones.

As the shrieks behind them turned into desperate, gurgling wails, Rhyzar’s wings sprouted from his back, and Caelia cast one last glance toward the king—not at the door, not at the suffering monsters behind it, but at the blush dusting the young ruler’s face as Caius stepped closer. “How old is Caius?” she asked as Rhyzar lifted her into his arms. “Eighteen,” he answered easily, without question. “He doesn’t have a dragon form, only wings, but he’s more than capable of handling this.” “Oh, good,” she murmured quietly. And then, with a powerful leap, they were airborne once more. Behind them, a mountain of white crystal scales shimmered in the fading light, following close behind. “Now,” Rhyz

His dark skin shone in the lights decorating the expanse of the hall and his eyes were a striking violet that made Nerina not want to stare into them for long. Nerina could sense the aura of magic around him which was strange because the people of Alsayf weren't well known for their magical prowess. "You have magic?" She questioned, her slender fingers gripping the arms of her throne. "I thought that—" "You are right, Empress. I am a bastard." Azriel announced. "My late mother was a Nebulosi mage... More of a maid than a mage anyway. My father is the current Master of Sea travel. I was not given many opportunities in his court but when I met Daegal during those months of battle, he treated m

"And this Cain person he seems to be so annoyed with? Who's that and is there any relation you have to this person?" I hate how this man is always asking difficult questions. First, it was if I was sane because I saw a merman, something that's still engraved into my mind and which refuses to leave, and then it was if I was being calculative with my tears, and now this. Safira keeps her mouth shut though she probably knows more about Cain than I do and she keeps her eyes on me. I sigh. "Cain is one of Lord Lyros's renowned warrior Lycans. He and Rhys are.... friends."

Cassian smiled and slowly responded, “Your Majesty, there is a saying in Aria: 'Enter Aria and do not return home until you have met Ethan Caelan.'” Valerius raised an eyebrow, asking softly, “Ethan Caelan?” Cassian respectfully nodded, his eyes reflecting admiration. “He is the fourth prince of Aria, proficient in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, hailed as the most talented scholar of Aria.” “The most talented scholar of Aria?” Valerius repeated, his tone laced with astonishment and curiosity.

"Edmond, you went in with 12 men, correct? 12 martial god-level elites, the breakthrough specialists of the three combined armies, and not only did you lose, but you came back short several heads. Interesting." The marshal of the three allied empires, Azrael Cassata of the Fraines, spoke in a cold voice. "You have made me look very bad. Do you understand?" The black-clad martial god, Edmond Munoz, lowered his head even further. "My apologies, sir." Azrael snorted. "Don't talk to me about apologies. I know you're not convinced. You are from the Mirelan, and you think I can't truly command you. So your politeness is nothing more than surface courtesy.

I said to him as I walked around the house. “It's our home now, love.” Suddenly, a young man came into the house, smiling at Azriel. I wasn’t sure he had seen me yet. “You're back so early, My King.” The man said. Then, he stopped when he noticed me in the room. “You're welcome, Milady.” He took a bow. “I'm Beta Trevor.” “My King?” I gasped shockingly. Was Azriel a king? “Who are you, Azriel?” He sighed and turned to face me, his piercing gaze met mine, “I didn't mean to keep it from you, love. I'm Azriel King, the Alpha of the Black Crow Pack, the Alpha King.”

"Yes, I can say that,' Alexandro said. “I won’t join your manhunt, if that’s what you’re asking. But I will tell you this—there are others out there. Beyond my kingdom. Beyond yours. Not all creatures respect our war or our women.” Alexandro’s eyes narrowed. “You know something.” “I know rumors. I’ve heard whispers of a new power rising from the east. A rogue named Maeron. Not a wolf. Not quite human. Something... older. I thought he was a myth.” “Why would a myth take my mate?” Valerian’s expression darkened. “You’ll have to find that answer yourself.” Alexandro’s jaw tightened. He didn’t trust Valerian. He never would. But what he said sounded real.

Cassian steps half forward, alpha aura flaring into a suffocating wall of iron pressure that makes even Sandra's braided hair stir faint in the sudden current. "You address Matriarch Wren Sutter." His voice drops low enough to rattle the terrace stones underfoot. "Ruler of the unified Blue Ridge, Commander of the Nullborn Vanguard." His grey eyes narrow hard. "Check your tongue, Emissary, before you lose the privilege of using it." Sandra doesn't flinch, though behind her two guards' hands drift instinctive toward the curved pommels of sheathed scimitars.