Turning Saints Into The Sea Novels & Stories

With his other hand, he adjusted the steering. The submarine performed a sharp 180-degree turn, swiftly retreating from the portal. "What are you doing?" Winter was furious. Gideon quietly stared at the portal. At that moment, the seawater surged violently. Two lantern-sized glowing orbs emerged. They weren't just lights but eyes—cold, piercing eyes. "A sea beast!" Winter screamed. She finally understood. Behind the portal lurked a massive sea beast, lying in wait with its gaping maw, ready to devour them the moment they entered.

His warm breath on my face, and that goddamn smirk of his that let me know he had won. “Look at me,” he instructed and I obeyed. I hadn’t noticed how dark his eyes were until now. They spoke of something evil that could only lurk in the depths of the ocean, and I hated to admit that they hypnotized me. My head fell back when the pressure built to unbearable heights, I needed a fucking release. I put my hand on his, urging him to go faster. Salvatore giving me a handjob did not mean I wasn’t straight. A girl could give me a handjob and I’d still feel the same. Liar.

Astastia Lafray was born the proud daughter of the alpha and luna of the Blood Moon pack. She was destined to become a leader that her pack could depend on, and a successor that her parents would be proud of. However, all that changed in the span of a night when her pack and family were attacked, and she was sent to an island for slaves to wait for the day she turned twenty-one and could be sold off as a breeder. Because of a powerful magical seal being etched into her skin, she was unable to shift, unable to fight back, unable to do anything other than stay alive and wait until the day that she would be taken back to the mainlands and put up for auction. But fate had a different plan, and t

The Southlands priest once prophesied that the Duke of Winslet's house would produce a Saintess who could command every beast alive. I'd hidden the golden serpent mark on my wrist since childhood, but my cousin, Rose Winslet, flaunted a poisonous snake coiled around hers every day. When the marriage decree came, she got exactly what she wanted: the Crown Prince. I was given to the Seventh Prince instead, a man with two ruined legs whom the entire court despised. For six years after that, I trained hawks to carry messages and drove wolves through enemy lines, and it was my hands that put him on the throne. The day he was crowned, I told him, overjoyed, that I was the true beast-commandin

“That’s not coincidence.” “No,” Riven said quietly. “That’s convergence.” The floor trembled again—harder this time. A deep, thunderous pulse rolled through the building. Outside, people screamed as shadows stretched unnaturally long, detaching from their owners, writhing like living things. Saint began to convulse. “Saint!” Riven knelt beside him. Saint gasped, eyes glowing faintly. “They’re pulling… through me.” “What does that mean?” Luca demanded. Saint locked eyes with Riven, terror naked and raw. “It means I’m a door now.”

"The creatures of the sea belong only to the Sea God. You slavers defile the sanctity of the ocean!" "So you poisoned them?" "This is purification!" I did not get angry. There was no point reasoning with lunatics. I had the sawtooth sharks drag their boat onto the reef, then tied all five of them to the rocks. "We'll see whether your companions come for you. If no one comes in three days, all of you become fish food." The Cult retaliated the next day. A B-class sequence user calling himself an Apostle of the Sea God arrived with three drug-controlled sea beasts to provoke us.

The Council's leash was not just binding me. It was resonating with the offerings. And I was the only one who knew that the Saintess's tears were not holy water. They were the solvent that dissolved the narrative's last resistance, the chemical that turned doubt into devotion, that transformed a school of frightened students into an army of true believers who would kill on command and call it purification.

Saint says with an evil smile, his fangs showing and making him look more devilish. Saint nods his head at his men and they immediately grab Maxwell, holding his hands still on the chop board. “I am sorry. Please, please. Don't do this. I beg you." Maxwell starts to cry, fear written clearly on his face as he begs Saint. He searches around for someone to save him from this devil, bit everyone just watched on silently. His pleas fall on deaf ears as Saint ignores them. Saint raises the knife, bringing it down on his wrist and successfully chopping his hands off.

My senses returns immediately and the barriers I have built up in me got repaired in no time. I pushed away from JL swiftly and stood aside to caught my breath. I couldn't dare look at Theo at all. The fear of what I could see in it won't allow me. Caught up between this two gorgeous young men. What should I do?

THE END (only for now) *** [Author's note We did it. ✨ No Saints Here (Lustful Chapters) is officially complete, a whole journey, and every bit of it shared with you. I just want to say thank you. Truly. To every reader who stayed, who loved each chapter, who spent their time and hard-earned money turning every page, I am deeply grateful. Your support means everything to me, and this book wouldn’t have come this far without you. But this isn’t the end… not even close.