Serafines Y Querubines Novels & Stories

I also wouldn't mind if you have constructive criticism about my book. SERAPHIMS- Also known as the burning ones. They are the highest angelic class and are caretakers of God's throne constantly singing praises to God. They are described as fiery six-winged beings with two wings that cover their faces and two that cover their feet and the last two they use to fly.

My wolf and I can't take it. ‘He might realise once this is done Quoi.’ My wolf Seraphina says with a whimper. ‘He won't. There is nothing to realise. I can't live in that space anymore Phia. I just can't. He doesn’t even say my actual name for Goddess sakes. I mean nothing to him. Never have. Never will. With all this going on, its opening too many wounds. Let's just get some space for a little.’ I beg her. I am too old for this drama.

“No, Mathias, you need to listen to me. When I met Nevaeh, I was scared. I was scared of what I felt for her and what might happen to her if she entered my world. Since we’ve gotten here, you’ve experienced a variety of things that have shaken your world. But I have to tell you, you’re being an idiot.” My head snaps forward at his comment. Not a lot of people dare speak to me in such a tone. I’m Mathias Black, head of the Council. A centuries-old Seraphim who has killed legions. Giving Mikhail my most withering scowl, I manage to grit out, “I think you need to walk away, Mikhail.”

As they approached the sacred grounds, the air seemed to hum with a palpable energy—an anticipation of the discussions that would shape the future of their kind. The entrance to the elders' sanctum loomed before them, adorned with intricate carvings that told the tales of generations past. Seraphina, her scarlet eyes glinting with a mix of reverence and determination, led the way. Adrian, his werewolf features a testament to the unity forged in recent battles, followed closely, while the hybrid child walked beside them, a living symbol of the prophecies that had unfolded.

The shadows of the flames dance on the walls, casting ethereal shapes that seem to emphasize the emotional distance between us. Seraphina notices me immediately. Her golden eyes, like the boiling liquid of a storm forming, turn to me with a gaze that chills my bones. I stand at the doorway, feeling the weight of silence fall over us once more. Her stare is laden with coldness, an almost impenetrable barrier. In contrast, my mind involuntarily conjures the image of Aria. The differences between the two are stark and inescapable. Seraphina’s skin is pale, almost translucent, as if the sun were her enemy. Aria, on the other hand, bears skin kissed by the sun, a vibrant, glowing brown, like eart

He was at the door in wolf form, holding back three creatures while Vera and Gray fought beside him. The door was buckling. “First one’s crowning,” Seraphine said. “One more push. Come on!” I bore down with everything I had. Through my tears, I heard it a cry. High, piercing, furious. “She’s here,” Seraphine breathed. “First daughter is here.” “Is she” I couldn’t finish. “Breathing. Small, but breathing.” Seraphine cleaned her quickly, wrapped her in something. “But we’re not done. The second one’s coming.”

That the world had tried to prevent from existing. And I was beautiful. I was terrible. I was free. "Sera." I turned to my best friend, my anchor, the girl who'd chosen to stand in the dark with me. Seraphina stood at the apex of the ritual circle. She looked like a weapon forged from starlight and prayer. Skin glowing with incandescent purity. Angelic wings fully unfurled, each feather shedding sparks of white-hot mana that hissed against damp stone. Beautiful. Terrified. Loyal.

“And now he says I can’t use Charizard unless I bring a sacrifice!” I blinked. “I’m sorry, he did what now?” Arsen was still processing when Jade charged in behind him, dramatically holding up a red crayon like it was the elder wand. His voice was deep, serious, slightly British for some reason. “THE CARDS HAVE SPOKEN.” “We are five seconds from a full cult ritual,” I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. “And I still haven’t had a second coffee.” Then—because apparently the chaos gods weren’t done—Lorelai floated in. I say floated because she wore a sheer purple cape, a tiara perched sideways on her curls, and she was dragging the mop like it was a sacred staff.

"Just as well. I only have a third of my energy left." Both sides knew that this match would be decided up close. The Seraphim ceased running, turned around and approached the VF-5 cautiously while unsheathing its combat knife. The rainbow cloud spurting from its rear gave the angelic mech a majestic appearance, as if it was a queen that claimed the skies as its domain.

"I know you are hiding among my wolves. I know you are planning to destroy everything I love." The crowd murmurs. "But I am not afraid of you. I am not afraid of your darkness. I am not afraid of your hate." I raise the Sun Blade. "I am the light. I am the queen. I am Seraphina. And I will never give up." The disciples reveal themselves. Dozens of them, their red eyes blazing. They attack. The battle is fierce, brutal. But I have the Sun Blade. I have Kael. I have the wolves of Silvermoon.