Virtue Angels Novels & Stories

“I go by Mischief now.” Mischief grasped the Addict’s arm, swinging him to his feet and then in a wide arc. The angels’ wings wrapped around each other, as they slow danced to the song that had been played for me, close and intimate. Then the Addict purred. I blinked. Angels purred when they were happy…? Or maybe only when they were hard-on happy…? Either way, that was hot. “Zophia or Mischief, I care only that you’re here,” the Addict murmured. “The sorceres—”

He continued to lick me as I tried to ride it out. He came up, claiming my lips, allowing me to taste my own juices. "I love you, Maria." I layed my head against his chest, running my fingers across his tattoo as he rubbed his fingers across mine. " I'm an Archangel.. Wife of the Reaper...I'll fight beside you...you don't have to do this alone." He nodded and kissed my forehead, wrapping a piece of my hair around his finger. I fell asleep, in his arms.

Angela’s POV “Who are you?” I asked him while I’m clutching the blanket on my chest. He smiled at me sweetly. “I’m Cleidon. I’m your guardian angel.” I furrowed my brows at him. “You? My guardian angel? Are you insane or what?” “No! Believe it or not, I’m really your guardian angel. The almighty descended me here to save you.” I rolled my eyes and took the ballpen on my side table and pointed it to him. “You are a robber, aren’t you?” I took a step back. “Or maybe, a r-rapist?!”

And this feeling made it more piquant. Everything reminded him of how much of a careless host he was. Angel was too pure of a soul for him. He wasn't a good host. He wasn't a good protector. He wasn't a good son. He wasn't a good brother. He wasn't a good friend. He wasn't a good boyfriend. He wasn't a good lover.

Elliot asked looking at me and all I did is smile and shook my head "Sure, tell them," I said "Guess who Violet really is?" He asked "What do you mean she's Violet isn't she," Elijah asked "Nope wrong well right but still wrong," he said and his twin gave him a Gibbs slap. "Just tell them before I do," Ollie said and then came to sit next to me "Fine Violet is known as Angel, Butterfly, and Raven" "What?!" They all screamed and looked at me and I give them a small smile "Angel like the best assassin in the world and Butterfly like the best underground fighter??" Leo asked

In the deepest pit of the celestial pandemonium, Dulmore. There, Ichabod and all his wild angels exists. Some of his angels, he would send to Earth's realm to steal, to kill and to put into chaos, the humans and all their seeds. Just for fun. They would always come back and give account of their works to Ichabod their grande master, who sits on his blazing throne always. Each successful work on Earth's realm fetches them a new rank and pack in a hierarchical order.

Allies emerged from unexpected places, their loyalty fueled by a shared desire for justice and the dismantling of the Veil. ‘This is going to be a long battle.’ Cordelia said to herself.

I boldly ask and hear both their servants and the guards behind gasp in shock. Was I not supposed to answer? I would like them to feel assured that I would not have used a spell to create a mate bond with them. I have standards that they do not meet. My words seem to enrage them though. "What a mad, thoughtless woman? Throughout my life I was yet to meet someone so resoundingly foolish!" the angel in a fur coat scoffs. "She sounds a bit too wise to me," their assistant says in an amused voice. "Such intellect and bravery are rare virtues among the wom-"

I had just started with the simple ones. “Yes, I have lived many, many times before. I don’t know exactly how many. But we all live and die and are reborn. And we all have a way of finding each other. It’s like we’re linked somehow. This link does have its drawbacks. The Corrupt can find us just as easily as we can find each other and believe me, we don’t want to be found by them. Since the beginning of all of this and the separation of the Fallen angels, into the Virtuous and the Corrupt...” “We align ourselves with the Virtuous, by the way.” Richard interjected.

A horn appears in the archangel’s hand. Uriel blows it. It’s not a sound. It’s a shockwave. High-pitched, divine, soul-piercing. My heart slams in my chest. My blood turns electric. The clouds above us tear open—and the sky is filled with angels. Principalities. Archangels. Powers. Virtues. Dominions. The Hosts of Heaven, ready to rain down justice. Michael turns to us. “Your move.” We look at each other—me, Maeve, Win, Dougal.