Sera Beak Red Hot And Holy Novels & Stories

“You don’t like them? Don’t you see how… obscenely hot they are?” “They’re the kind of hot that hurts,” Elira agreed fervently, clutching her fork like it was sacred. “Like I hate them hot. If I even got eye contact, I think I’d combust on the spot.” Sera nearly choked on her bread. “You two cannot be serious right now.” Maren leaned closer, eyes glittering with amusement. “Come on. You can tell us. You’re into them too, right?” “No.” Elira narrowed her eyes playfully. “It’s okay if you’re… You know.”

Any beastkin engaging in relations with a human under 18 would be immediately neutralized, regardless of whether or not it was consensual. "You know I'm a clean freak. I don't like her touching you." Lisa nuzzled his neck and pouted. "Please, Salem. Can't we be each other's firsts?" After a long while, Salem hoarsely replied, "Alright."

The doors shattered inward in a blast of violet fire, splinters whistling like arrows. Red Hollow berserkers stormed through the smoke, bodies glowing with bloodline runes, eyes hollowed into soulless pits. “FOR THE NEW GOD!” they roared as they charged. Serna answered with steel. Her hammer slammed into the first berserker’s chest, the spike ripping rune-flesh like wet clay. Magic sparked, trying to burn her fingers off. She held on and twisted until she felt a heart collapse under the force. “Break the casters!” she yelled. “Disrupt that damned circle outside!”

Hannah was looking at something behind her, and Sera had a hunch what it was. She broke out in cold sweat, her legs shaking even more now, threatening to give way. Summoning all her courage, she swiveled. The sight awaiting her knocked the air out of her lungs. On the other side of the space stood the lion. And he was looking straight at her. Sera saw her death flashing in his amber eyes. The beast let out another growl, clearly disapproving of her intrusion into his territory. "Help," Sera could only manage to whisper while tears rolled down her cheeks. Using all her remaining strength, she forced her legs to retreat.

The clearing glowed with the twinkling fairy lights that adorned every tree, and the torches that had been lit along the path to illuminate the participants' way. Brand stood in front of the Yggdrasil feeling like his throat was being constricted by a stiff collar rather than a soft tunic. He wore a bearskin over one shoulder to symbolize strength and protection. He was also glad of its warmth as the first snows had started to fall just in the last week. He huffed as Brodi clapped him on the shoulder. "Nervous yet?" he asked with a smile, adjusting the leather hauberk that held his broadsword across his back and the belt at his waist where the sheath for his ceremonial dagger rested.

Sera exhaled. > Sera: “No. We kill it.” She extended a palm to Lucien, to Maple. > Sera: “Together.” Lucien gave her a steady look. Maple nodded. As they lifted the heater housing, a pulse surged around Sera’s fingers warmth that filled every nerve like it wanted to claim her. > Sera (soft): “No.” She crushed the unit. Sparks flew. Heaters seized. The pulse died. Silence pressed in. The penthouse lights flickered back.

“There will be no more names after you.” Seren stood atop the altar now, its surface cracked beneath her weight, but still holding. A final act of reverence. “Then let mine burn first.” And she raised both hands. Not to summon lightning. Not to gesture tothe gods. But to call something older. Not from the sky. Not from spell. But from blood. The fire didn’t come from above. It rose from within. It started in her ribs, soft, like a child’s breath. Then grew. Spiraled. Became a roar that shook the marrow of the world.

He severed it from the liver, and it fell to the floor. I was almost too tired to scream, but I did. I couldn’t stop screaming as the pain engulfed me and I shut my eyes tightly. I was breathing hard, everything hurt. Malachi handed the liver to Jessica and she placed it in the silver bowl carefully. “With fire, by the gods that be, in the realm of Muspelheim, I consecrate and duplicate this heart of Karani Sinclair. I burn her image upon it.” She placed a photo of Karani on top of the liver and a green flame enveloped it.

Instead, the ethereal blaze emitted an otherworldly glow, casting an ominous hue that bespoke its divine origin. The searing, radiant flames bore a spectral quality that defied the physical realm, scorching Belphegor's very spirit while leaving his corporeal form unscathed. It was a manifestation of Holy Fire, an awe-inspiring testament to the wrath of the divine. The demons, typically unyielding in the face of terror, stood transfixed and aghast, their very essence trembling in the presence of such unfathomable power.

That would be how long before the vote on who would be the next godfather in the Solntsevskaya Bratva. My mind wandered with the possibilities of torturing her as I dressed and sat at the kitchen table, trying to read. After my second cup, a groan sounded from the guest bedroom, then a yelp. A smile twitched at the corners of my mouth and I slowly returned to the room. She glared at me from the floor with hatred in her bright blue eyes. “What the holy fuck, Tomas?” “You said you liked serial killers.” I shrugged. “I wanted to see if you meant it.”