Tensura Raphael Novels & Stories

His wolf stirred within him, restless and possessive, urging him toward the smaller figure who was a bit far from him. Relief washed over him when he realized it was Raine. Raine hurried toward him and held his shoulders. “Are you alright?” she asked, her voice filled with concern as she felt the skin beneath the fabric was hot…too hot. Raphael held onto her tightly, burying his face in her neck to take a sniff. “Mate,” he murmured softly, breathing in her scent. Then his expression changed. His brows furrowed, and confusion crossed his face. In the next moment, his expression hardened with displeasure. Suddenly, he pushed her away.

"Tade, please... stop, I beg you..." But Tade is far from finished. "You have systematically ruined every single alliance we had!" he screams, his chest expanding as his wolf rumbles. "I warned you about Rapha's sharp mind. He carries the exact same dangerous brilliance as Nyara. But you dismissed him as a useless, plain rogue and convinced me to throw him to the wolves! Look what happened! Rapha is Kaelum! He is the most powerful black-market weapon designer in the world, and we did not even know it!"

|| TERESA LAWRENCEVILLE's POV || " What are you doing here, Raphael?" I could never mistake this face ever. Raphael worked under king Nicolas, loyal to him wholeheartedly. He had been his right handed person for years. Raphael coldly retorted, eyeing me suspiciously, " I am here to check on your work. Did you make them believe in you?" I replied a bit nervously. We were standing in the backyard, isolated from the castle staff.

He immedately shot the moving balls five consecutive times without stopping and each shot hit a ball. The seller was dazed and he looked stunned by Raphael's pro handling of the rifle. Nicole jumped for excitement and she immedately hugged Raphael, planting a tender kiss on his lips to her own suprise. Raphael kissed her back and hugged her. She then pulled back and turned to face the young seller who still looked shocked on how Raphael was able to shoot the moving balls so swiftly without even missing one. She stretched out her hands to him and he gave her the huge polar bear.

My body tensed up, a shiver running down my spine as I realized what was coming next. 'Breathe,' Raphael ordered, his voice deep and commanding, like he was used to giving instructions that no one dared ignore. His eyes locked onto mine, dark and hungry, holding me in place more than the chains ever could. I tried to obey, sucking in a shaky breath, but my heart was pounding so hard it made my vision blur a little.

Winter said. “I thought you already know what you must do,” Raphael asserted. “Wash me up before the water gets cold,” he opined. Winter looked at the bathing products, which the servants had already placed at the counter. She checked them and picked up the scented soap. With her gradual steps, she reached behind his back and rubbed the soap on his left shoulder first. Raphael curled his fingers as her cold fingers brushed his skin. He gulped because her touch was burning for him. This kind of effect he never thought he would ever feel. He lifted his arms and rested them on the rim of the bathtub.

And the color of my skin never hides when I blush so it's always hard. "What's your name?" Now he stood right beside me leaning on the basin and looking down at me. Okay, how the hell was he this tall? I looked like a minor in front of him. This was so unfair. And not to forget his deep baritone voice. It was so smooth just like butter. Ew Arabella really? "Arabella" I replied. He hummed before folding his hands and damn I almost swooned. I accidentally glanced at the tattoo on the back of his left shoulder. It had wings and it between were two initials.

Jes gulped when she saw the burning intensity in Raphael's eyes. She felt like a deer trapped in a lion's cage. "Sneaking food in the theaters, faking a pregnancy, partying in the club, approaching strangers for one night stand, you have got quite hobbies besides running away from me Miss Emily." Raphael said in his husky voice while crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes shining with amusement. It looked like he was trying very hard not to burst into a fit of laughter.

He nodded, pushed the air out. "Do you still need pain?" He nodded again. His eyes clenched closed. "Look at me and tell me what kind." Raphael lowered his head, looked me right in the eye. "I need sharp. Hard." "Knife?" He nodded. "Yes, please." I shook my arm, allowed a blade to fall into my palm. "Close your eyes." His lids fell shut on a sigh. His shoulders relaxed. His body lost its vibrating tension. And I hadn't even touched him with the blade yet.

He chuckles at my feeble attempt, only stepping back with a malicious grin. Raphael isn’t as tall as Marco, but he is still a decent height for a male. And he didn’t get classed as a bully for no reason. Although muscular, there is no smooth elegance or refinement to his physic. Raphael is a rough piece of work, as if he has been carved with a blunt knife. Curated with jagged edges, a shaggy unkempt beard and buzz cut. He is like a rusty machete, worn, weathered, and ragged, but still dangerous enough to cut you and give you a nasty infection. “Stop! Stop this nonsense!” I yell, decently fearful, as I feel a close friendship with Mr. Barlow. Even with his annoying old man tendencies. I don’t