Sora Artwork Novels & Stories

He would just get up again and bother someone else. We both turned to leave, but then Sora stopped in her steps. Her gaze landed on a stack of folded cloths on a nearby shelf, and she walked toward it. She grabbed two of them and headed back to Kayden. “This won’t do,” she said. Sora wrapped one cloth around his eyes, tying it tight enough that he wouldn’t be able to see a thing. Then she made a ball out of the second one and forced his mouth open before pressing it inside.

Vardan hadn't just bitten him, he had planted a claim that burned through his nerves. Sora grabbed a blank canvas from the wall. He needed a distraction. He sat on a high wooden stool, dipping a broad brush into pitch-black paint and slashing it across the surface. The lines were jagged, sharp, and aggressive. But when he closed his eyes, those burning gold pupils in the darkness of the bar haunted him. Unconsciously, his fingers reached for the ochre paint. He traced a sharp circle resembling a predator’s eye in the center of his dark mess.

The Hunter in the alley was named Sora. Twenty-three, half-Japanese, trained at a private facility in Oslo that had zero oversight body affiliation, which was the first signal that the program she'd come through had been operating in a deliberate gap. Adrian brought her inside after the event. She was still suppressed — not distressed, just limited, which she clearly hated in the specific way that people who relied on their ability hated not having it. She sat at the table in the back office and looked at all of us with sharp eyes and said very little.

Sora wasn’t listening to anyone. Not the fairy guards. Not my father. Not even the Fairy Queen herself.. The wolf’s eyes stayed locked on me as if the rest of the world no longer existed. The corruption surged again beneath my skin. Sora lost what little control he had left. His claws hit the glowing floor hard enough to crack stone as he pushed harder toward me. “No!” Mom shouted again. The symbols around me flickered dangerously. “Johanis, control your wolf!” “I’M TRYING!” We could hear him scream. But Sora wasn’t trying to be controlled.. that was the problem. As he was terrified. I could feel it through the mate bond now beneath all the rage and violence.

Wiping my hands with a cloth, my heart rising and falling like I had just run a marathon. I moved back to fully understand what the hell I had painted, and I was just there, frozen. It was… it was him. Sora. He came alive in my painting. He looked… beautiful. I quickly shook my head. I was only distracted. None of this made any sense. But I couldn’t stop looking at it. The burst of colors. And I got every single detail right. I picked up a cloth and immediately threw it over the painting. No one should ever see that.

Sora closed his eyes, took a deep breath in, and shifted as he exhaled. Ezra gasped when he saw Sora in his true form. Sora's scales were cream, tan, and gold, with charcoal gray accents along his spine and down the length of his tail. He was the color of a royal Omega Dragon, the same color as his Dad's dragon.

she excitingly exclaimed. Azul's brows furrowed as she looks at the crack where the arrow landed. For a thousand years of struggling and trying to escape that realm, even his full power is not enough to make a dent on anything in the room. It may crack but it will always return to how it use to be. But right now, looking at what Saiya did, the crack remained. "Did the power of the Light Oracles got weakened or is Saiya's hidden power finally exceeds?" He whispered to himself.

I answered from the heart, fully aware those words were true. Sora smiled, her sharp teeth gleaming. "I love seeing pure souls corrupted by suffering. It gives their essence a more graceful and dazzling glow." She turned, making a wide gesture with her hands so I could take in the place more clearly. "They are magnificent, aren’t they? All the pain echoing from the stones, the core of all despair… it is music to my ears." "How do you collect them?" I asked, curious, running my finger along one of the pillars where screaming spirits echoed. "How do you trap them here? And how do you choose them?"

Cassie had never heard of Donovan at all. But they were both, in that same hour, under that same grey Thursday-is-coming sky, deciding that Sora Robbins was the reason their lives hadn't gone the way they were supposed to. And somewhere in between them, oblivious, Sora was standing in her half-finished office space with a paint swatch in one hand and her phone in the other, texting Miranda a picture of two shades of blue that looked identical to anyone who wasn't her. *Which one,* she'd written. *Be honest.*

Sora pouted as I laughed at how ridiculous he could be. "Of course I do Casanova." I replied as we got to a stop. I dropped our stuffs on the ground, moving behind Sora whose shoulders relaxed a little when it felt my heat as my breath softly touched his blushing ears. "Open your eyes." That simple command had Sora taking off the blindfold carefully as he blinked. His eyes slowly looked up, leaving him speechless as his heart tripped in excitement. "It's... It's..." He paused as he slowly turned his back, tears falling down his cheeks. "Beautiful. Aurora Borealis is most beautiful phenomenon I've ever laid eyes on. Thank you."