The Devil's Eyes Novels & Stories

I know not to disobey him more and immediately obeyed him like a good child. I looked up closely to see the most ironic steel grey eyes staring at my Hazel eyes Deadly His eyes looked so cold like iceberg and dark at the same time. He Give me chills. I don't want him looking at me. I was insecure because for a devil he was sinfully beautiful. My red lips parted in wonder, I have never seen someone so handsome. His eyes followed my lips and licked his own pink ones. Now I was afraid and he said the word I never prayed to hear from him

But somehow, I always pictured a balding old man with a pot belly caused by the cheap whiskey he drowns himself in every night. But I couldn’t be more wrong. The devil isn’t horned or hideous. He’s tall, sculpted, and terrifyingly beautiful. Power clings to him like a second skin beneath the flawless cut of his suit. His face is sharp, symmetrical and too perfect to belong to someone mortal, too perfect for the blood he spills, too perfect for the cruelty he yields, and his icy blue eyes can bring even the bravest man to his knees. A cold prickling sensation erupts over my entire body like a thousand tiny needles stabbing my skin

Although he was wounded and disoriented, but seized an opportunity to slip away unnoticed but he also had no idea that Chase had seen him. As The Devil, as he called himself was escaping, he held his hand to his face, as he felt the searing pain from the injury he had gotten, he cursed as blood trickled down from the socket of where his eye once resided. As he moved, his desperation set in. The loss of his eye was affecting his depth perception and balance, which made him stumble through altered terrain. He had managed to leave the pack fast with his speed but now he had slowed down as he was a bit weak and needed to do something about his eye.

Devil, I can’t deny he is an extremely handsome Devil, who’s playing with me and my body as his wish. Again, he came near me, so near that the rich fragrance of his body again took over my sense, making me weak on my knees. “ Court!! Heh… “ He husked looking straight in my eyes as he gave a rough laugh stating it simple way he is hell angry and annoyed by my statement. His dark luminous eyes we’re giving a glare that was freezing my bones, like being nude in the middle of a hailstorm, where every chunk of ice was a frosted dagger cutting into my skin. They are so dark, giving a feeling like I am looking into an endless expanse of a midnight sky. Pure black. Dark and cold.

“You know I could make all this go away. I can make the charges disappear, but I’m going to need something from you first.” I knew what it was before he even said it. “Sign the papers,” he leaned down to tuck a strand of hair from my face while maintaining eye contact with me. “And then disappear from my life, forever.” He said it with so much certainty that I felt like he had driven a stake clean through my heart, impaling me with his words. I blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of it all before it finally settled in my head. Curtis Blackwood was the fucking devil.

he murmured. Seraphina straightened as best she could, chin lifted. “If you're here to kill me, get it over with.” A soft chuckle echoed through the hollow room. “Kill you?” he echoed. “No, sweetheart. You’re far too valuable for that.” He stepped closer, and the light finally caught his face. She sucked in a sharp breath. He was beautiful—in the way a blade was beautiful. Sharp, polished, and meant to destroy. Midnight-black hair fell carelessly across his forehead, and his eyes—those eyes—burned with an unnatural crimson glow. A devil’s gaze. No humanity, just hunger.

Maybe start planning my next escape for real this time. And then—he did something that caught me off guard. Ronan Blackwood, the Devil himself, squatted in front of me. Not stood. Not loomed. Squatted. Eye level. Holding two glasses of wine in his large hands. “What’s the problem?” he asked, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. I looked away. “I’m fine,” I muttered.

' He thinks, 'How the actual hell this pathetic man in front of me was granted the father title? "Y-y-yess king ! " "Then WHAT IS IT ? " said the devil and The devil's angry footsteps caused to hide the little girl's terrified face in her hand and cry . Her whimpers fill the room.Outside is raining heavily but the sound of her cries stabbing the Devil's ear! That's new as he heard countless of cries in his lifetime , cries of pain and destruction and to say the least he is used to it. But this crying is suffocating him! He wants it to stop.

Cara puella", he whispers and rubs his gnarled and chalky hands and slither towards her, only stopping when he is close enough that she can smell the rotten stench from his body. Charot's appearance can scare anyone. He is a master demon with cat like eyes, that glow in a peculiar light blue color, reminding her of a dying star. His ears are pointed, and claws like a cat ready to fight. His nose is two black angular holes deeply set into his pale face. His whole demeanor sends out a signal that this is a creature not to be taken lightly. His wings hang motionless along his bony body, and when he speaks you can glimpse white fangs.

I sit back, the glass still in my hand, the night stretching on endlessly. I think of my father’s ring on my finger. Of Luca’s warning. Of the blood already spilled. And of her—beautiful, unreadable, dangerous in ways I’m only beginning to understand. The storm outside breaks. Rain hits the windows in steady rhythm, drowning out the world. I look out into the dark and whisper to myself, “This is where it begins.” The war for the empire. The war for trust. The war for truth. And I’m done running