Shadow Saint Novels & Stories

"Show that you're determined. Fight them or get eaten. As the shadows moved forward, their shapes morphing and stretching strangely, Zara's heartbeat accelerated. The blade of the dagger Kael had handed her felt pathetically little against the gathering darkness as she fumbled for it. The first shadow, its shape fluttering and insubstantial, surged at her. With minimal resistance, Zara cut through it with her blade. Before reassembling, the creature shuddered and retreated. The cloaked guy calmly stated, "It won't work." "The only thing they are afraid of is the shard." Zara paused and reached into the backpack to pick up the crystal. She tugged it free, feeling its warmth rush through her f

Shaun was absolutely livid. He had no more reason to hold back, he unleashed the full scales of his power. An Agile of level five was a terrible foe to have! Facing Shaun’s full-on attack, Zephyr had no chance of defending himself. He was about to be turned into a sandbag and be abused by Shaun.

It's rare that the Shadows get this kind of interaction with the council, they normally keep pretty much to themselves. A male wolf shifter named Shane who is considered our “general” if you’re comparing ranks to a human army, steps forward. He looks like a massive GI Joe come to life but he has a soft side once you get to know him. I note his witch mate Maya, who hardly ever comes to headquarters.

Yellow tapes surrounding the area and flashing lights. I saw Alejandro standing just beyond the threshold in a black robe, face carved from stone, clearly trying to suppress the rage bubbling beneath his flawless exterior. I couldn’t look away. I wanted to see every twitch, every tightened jaw muscle, every ounce of disbelief when he realized the girl he thought he’d burned alive was the ghost now haunting his empire. “That’s right,” I whispered under my breath. “This is just the beginning.” Shane slid behind me on the bed, wrapping an arm around my waist, his lips ghosting over the shell of my ear.

Raven stood, Shadow erupting from her in a wave of black and gold, tearing The Wraith’s darkness apart, shredding the shadows that clung to her. The Wraith staggered, his eyes wide, his power flickering. “You… what are you?” he gasped. Raven stepped forward, Shadow swirling around her, her gold eyes locked on his. “I am Shadowstorm.” She lunged, her blade a streak of black fire, slicing through the last of The Wraith’s defense, plunging into his chest. The Wraith screamed, shadows bursting from him, twisting, writhing, before being sucked into the blade, the darkness tearing away piece by piece.

Something waiting. --- Determined not to be paralyzed by fear, I returned to the antique bookstore — to the stories, the secrets, the fragments of forgotten women. The elderly owner greeted me with a knowing smile. “You’re searching for answers,” he said quietly. I nodded. He handed me a leather-bound tome, its cover worn but strong — *Reflections of the Forgotten*. “Read carefully,” he advised. “Sometimes the past speaks through shadows.” --- I spent the night poring over its pages. The book told of women trapped in illusions, caught between worlds — ghosts of themselves, struggling to reclaim their true identities.

She leaned against the trunk of a massive oak, her eyes glazed as she watched dust motes dance in the light. "We are not alone." Sloane drew his dagger. The shadows between the trees shifted. From the woods ahead, Balthazar stepped into the clearing. Vane and Kael flanked him. "Seeing you so helpless is good to see." Balthazar's jaundiced eyes scanned the tattered remains of Sloane's shirt greasy stains, charcoal, dried blood. "To think I was replaced by a dog who looks lost searching for a bone." Sloane did not move. He held up his right wrist. The golden Shackle glowed with an angry, rhythmic amber light.

"The Red Blood... it’s the future. You’re the one who’s going to build the world that doesn't need a Save File. But shadows... shadows belong in the past." "Silas, don't you dare," I hissed, my heart beginning to fracture. "Don't you dare give me a 'Heroic Ending.' We’re a team. We’re the Flame and the Shadow." "And the Shadow's job is to protect the Flame from the cold," Silas said. Before I could react, he slammed his palm into my chest. He didn't use a blade; he used a **Shadow-Push**. I was launched backward, flying toward the closing portal of the farmhouse door.

The boy’s voice didn't echo; it absorbed the sound of the world around it. Standing in the crumbling tunnel, the "Shadow Heir" looked less like a monster and more like a terrifyingly perfect sculpture of a child. The glowing sphere in his hand pulsed in time with my own fading heartbeat, a physical manifestation of the "Final Liquidation."

he phoned Santiago, “run me an IP address trace linking it to a number.” “Yes, boss.” Lucifer handed the phone to Winter, “give him your cell number.” Winter gives Santiago her number. He then tells her, “I will get back to you.” Lucifer, now getting ready to leave, climbs in the van. As he climbs in, there is a group of guys with the word Shadow on the number plate; however, he does not notice when he climbs into the Van. Andrea looks up, noticing the van suddenly; she is scared, stopping Lucifer and pointing to the guys. Right then, Lucifer's phone rings. “Boss, I could trace the caller. They call themselves shadow Hunters.”