The Devil Never Cries Novel Novels & Stories

The devil hadn't just bargained for my eye; he had bargained for my humanity, forcing me to choose between a life of misery with sight, or a life of wealth in absolute darkness. I reached for the knife, my hand shaking violently. I wasn't reaching for the money anymore. I was reaching for the end of the game. I looked at him, and for the first time, I realized that the devil doesn't want your soul; he wants your despair. He wants you to realize that no matter which choice you make, you have already lost.

KRIS: It's been a month since I last had any contact with The Devil himself. People knew we were not together anymore and luckily for me, no one has asked about it. Not even my friends nor my mom. I wasn't ready to delve into my horrific tale: the tale of the girl that fell in love with her father's killer. Worse than telling people of my ordeal, was how I felt. Void. Like my heart had been ripped out of me. There was also this constant feeling of guilt nagging at me.

Arabella Rain stung my face. It felt real. Cold. It mingled with the mud beneath my feet. I stood among mourners. Their murmurs buzzed like flies. In my hand I held a wilted white rose. My father’s face. Pale and worn Flashed in my mind as the lid of his casket disappeared beneath the soil. I didn’t cry. There were no tears left. The world seemed to tilt yet again and suddenly I was underwater. Heavy silence. Pressure.

Henry's POV --- "No, p-please don't hurt me. I haven't done anything wrong." I cried out, I didn't know what to do. "Help! Someo-" The man immediately covered my mouth with his hand to prevent me from screaming. I felt the guy's nose on the crook of my neck, he was breathing so loudly that it made me shiver. "Mmmm... Mate! Ahhhh…Fuck! You smell so sweet." What did he say? No! I don't want this!

Her mother hadn’t died in a car crash. She’d been sacrificed. Her mother hadn’t died in a car crash. She’d been sacrificed. And Dante Moretti—the Devil himself—had been the one she bargained with. “Why are you telling me this now?” she whispered. “Because you need to decide, Seraphina.” He stepped closer again, eyes locked on hers. “This world is cracking. The barrier between what is and what was is thinning. War is coming. Not just between crime families. But between realms.”

“It’s a tough choice. Maybe I should try both of you out one more time before I give you a final verdict?” Aaron closed his eyes, suppressing the urge to strangle her. He let out a cold, sharp laugh. “Have you ever seen an angel with plucked wings? Or maybe a dried-out angel?” Zoe instinctively imagined Ryan being hung up like a piece of beef jerky or a plucked chicken. It was a pathetic mental image. She shivered and shook her head. “I was right. You’re a devil. A mean, cruel devil.” Aaron gave her backside a sharp, warning pinch. “I’m letting you off the hook because you’re exhausted. But listen to me, baby—don’t test my patience. I’m not as nice as I look.”

The Earl shrieked in wonder, "You call her a maiden! She is no maiden. She's a thief! A mercenary, unbelievable thief!" He continued barking while he walked backwards away from them, "She handed her drink to the Earl of Vetcom, said things too daring for any normal Scottish woman and stole food. You would not call such person a mai…" He found himself staggering suddenly, noticing he was just at the edge of a ditch, one he didn't notice because he was too busy shouting. While he found himself falling into it, a hand quickly gripped around his hard and tight. Gently, that same hand pulled him up, straight back to his balance. And it was the devil herself.

Lucian’s note had come with a final line: “The devil doesn’t wear horns. He wears charm. Find his weakness.” Ayla exhaled slowly. She was no longer Ayla Monroe. Not here. Tonight, she was a ghost. Inside, the gala pulsed with orchestrated elegance. Women in gowns worth more than Ayla’s rent glided past men with blood-stained hands wrapped in Armani. Waiters floated by with champagne. It would’ve been beautiful if she didn’t know who half these people were — or what they’d done to get here. Lucian’s voice echoed in her mind: “Serrano traffics secrets. You’ll be one of them by midnight if you fail.”

I said with the gritted teeth. Sarah tried to hold my hand to push me away but I never let go of her. "Tell me why the fuck did you do that? What did she ever do to you?" "I-" she couldn't speak. So, I loosened my hold around her neck. She inhaled sharply. Her eyes filled with tears but they weren't going to do anything to me. I have seen Ana in a worse condition. My heart started to burn in my chest when the heart wrenching sight of her tears flashed in front of my eyes. It took a fraction of a second for me to lose control.

No women. “A devil with no weakness,” she murmured, the words barely louder than the crunch of the apple. Then a memory surfaced: the way he had devoured her the entire night, slow and relentless, as if her body were the only sin worth savoring. Her fingers tightened subconsciously around the book on devils she had just finished reading. Its pages had spoken of their insatiable hunger for untouched souls, pure, unchanging, untouchable. The moment a soul was altered in any way, it slipped forever from their grasp.