Serafines Y Querubines Novels & Stories

“Seraphina, if this came to you in a vision, and if your blood is the key…Do you know what this means?” Seraphina avoided her gaze and continued to look for a dagger though, her cheeks had flushed a bright red. “What does it mean?” Achilles asked them. Seraphina avoided his gaze and continued to busy herself. Helga sent a worried glance towards Seraphina. “What does it mean?” Achilles asked again though, his voice more firm this time. “It means that Seraphina is the same as King Xaveris, a Demi-God of sorts.” Achilles eyes widened at Helga.

Combined with the pitch-black vehemence that could only glower from the Raven Queen's pure black iris. While Seraphina shared a very close resemblance to her mother, thus being dubbed the, "black diamond," or "dark gem," of the Raven Harpy Clan; the elder twin princess didn't have slight contorts in her face… those of a kind, which could only come from years and years of malice distorting someone's entire complexion.

Reading about their personalities made Seraphine fall into a deep thought. They were highly intelligent creatures, way more than humans, and possessive of what they considered to belong to them. Because of their arrogant nature, they thought everything they laid their eyes on to be there and wouldn’t give up on anything to attain it. When they want something, they had to have it. Reading about this aspect of their characteristics caused chills to travel down Seraphine’s back. She read through how twisted they could be and confirmed it more that Aeryes didn’t have a stable mental state.

Seraphine skidded back on ice. “How do we fight this?” Cassian shouted over the gale. Seraphine pushed to her feet. “Lightning.” She raised both hands. Sparks crawled along her arms—bright, dangerous. She thrust forward. Lightning cracked. It struck the heart of the vortex—destabilizing it. The wind screamed, scattered, reformed weaker. Again. Seraphine hit it again. The vortex collapsed—dissipating into harmless gusts. Silence. Then cheering.

The witches turned their attention to the warriors - Kane’s men, Killian’s army, the gathered Lycans and werewolves who would stand against the Harbinger when the time came. A wall of fire erupted into the sky, illuminating the soldiers in a golden glow. Weapons levitated from the ground, their surfaces humming with raw power. Shields gleamed, etched with protective runes that seemed to pulse with their bearers’ heartbeats. “These are your weapons,” Seraphina intoned. “They will not break under the Harbinger’s darkness. They will strike true.” Swords burned with white-hot flames. Arrows shimmered, their tips infused with celestial energy. Even the Lycans themselves felt the shift, their bodi

They are all arranged in their sizes, from smaller to bigger ones. "It's like I've read almost all of these books. They're all familiar to me." Sumire said to herself as she read the titles on the side of the book. The maiden continued to look further inside. Sumire went to the left side of the wall when she saw the painting of three biblical angels: The first one is the Cherubim, an animal-human hybrid, depicts as having four faces facing each direction: that of a lion, an ox, an eagle, and a human. They have straight legs, four wings, and bull hooves for feet that gleam like polished brass. One set of wings covers their body, and the other is used for flight. Followed with Seraphim, “the f

" Rhoda's eyes probe them. Rudolf looks at her seriously. Aunt Chel, Rachel, and the rescuers' team slowly and quietly join to listen as they sit on the carpet. Rhoda continues enthusiastically. "I saw the heaven open and the angels Querubim and Seraphims appearing on the high clouds singing." Rhoda pauses and asks them, "Do you know what the angels Querubim and Seraphims sing?"

The kind of collection that could easily become… Too much and so tacky. An assistant hesitated beside her. “…they said this was yours,” she murmured, almost apologetically. Seraphine reached out. Ran her fingers along the fabric. The material was warm under her touch. Alive. Difficult. Behind her, A soft laugh. “Oh… that’s unfortunate.” Seraphine didn’t turn immediately. She already knew. Lydia. Standing a few steps away, draped in a soft sky-blue robe, her hair pinned loosely as makeup artists hovered around her like orbiting satellites.

“Together.” And with the Tribunal’s fury raging behind them, their shadows clawing at every inch of the abyss, Seraphine and Riven surged toward the glow—two defiant sparks in a sea that sought to drown them.

“Where have you been? I’ve been losing my mind trying to understand everything!” She didn’t wait for an answer as she asked the next question straight ahead. “Who’s Seraneth, and why do we have to seek her forgiveness? Is she alive or is she a ghost?” her voice rose. “Who are the trio twins I keep hearing about? Why must they unite? What does that mean for the supernatural world? And now that I and Torin have mated…what’s next?” Seraphine raised her aging eyes. Her expression was grave, as if every word Freya had spoken was both inevitable and tragic.