Satan Blue Exorcist Novels & Stories

She was the worst. "I’ll come back later," I said, already backing away. Lexi nodded knowingly. She got it. No one wanted to be around when Satan was in one of her moods. I had just turned to leave when the air changed. Flames. Heat. Doom. Lord Satan arrived. She was petite—barely five feet—but carried enough destruction in her aura to raze kingdoms. Pale white skin. Blood-red hair that burned at the tips. Eyes like molten coal. Fuck my luck.

It had baffled when he was just a mere mortal, but it floored him now as a demon. Her stubborn will to be both defiantly strong and soft in his hands had caused the sadistic side of Young to rear its head in Blood, pushing for an opportunity to turn her to clay. It never made any sense how she embodied love and light at all times, even when the harsh parts of herself were shown. The demon side of Young couldn’t help but want, damn near need, to crush that light out of her. In the same token, her display of blind trust in him was a gift he never wanted to take for granted so he was torn, now more than ever.

Was he a relic seeking refuge or was the most notorious pack’s secret weapon? “You can fix her right?” Satake chipped in, disrupting my thoughts. “Or at least give me answers.” He said that and muttered a threat. One that my prickly ears caught very well. The Beta of the Crow pack already believed this was the work of a witch or at least a magic practitioner and he swore to have that person’s head once we gave him answers. I ignored his very capable threat and chose to get to work. I needed to exorcise Candice out of this poor soul. I immediately fished out my spellbook and flipped it to the exorcism section. It was a branch based spell. It was a bit difficult but it only required blood aton

His countenance, a haunting testament to the cataclysmic clash that had transpired, bore witness to the relentless ferocity that defined his essence. In a chilling display of otherworldly power, Satan, his features obscured by the shroud of his own torment, lunged at Maria with a formidable weapon, a trident forged from the very essence of his wrath. The air crackled with an undercurrent of raw, unbridled malice, the weight of his malevolent intent casting a sinister pall over the unfolding confrontation.