Wicked Devil Novels & Stories

The man was a Fallen Devil! A Fallen Devil was a Cultivator who had been infected by Devil Qi, or had strayed into the Devil's Practice for some reason. He would possess the strengths of both an Immortal and a Devil.

A devilish smile crept across my lips as I whistled softly. “Here comes the Grim Reaper.”

Halsey watched as Dwight stepped forward, yanking the Stormborn Devil away with a powerful motion. The Stormborn Devil quickly regained his composure and snarled, his face twisting in rage. "You brat! How dare you ruin my fun!" With that, the Stormborn Devil swung a punch at Dwight. Dwight, agile and quick, effortlessly dodged the blow and retaliated with a punch to the Stormborn Devil's stomach. With a loud bang, the Stormborn Devil crashed into the side of the car, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

“A favor. That 's it. I don’t have anything in mind, yet. But when I do, I’ll call for you, you’ll answer me. No matter what. Otherwise, the deal is broken and you’ll get back to this shithole.” Mia breathed heavily. A favor? Get out of there? “Are you the Devil?” she asked. She still remembered some of the things her mother had told her. Mia shook her head, avoiding thinking too deeply about her mother. “Who cares? Does it matter?” “It does! I don’t want no deal with the Devil!” “You’re too picky, for someone who is about to become a worker in a brothel. Not only you, but your little doll of a sister.”

I gasp. He fists my hair at the nape of my neck and yanks my head back, twisting it so I can look him in the eyes as he corrects my words, “The only one that you should be worshipping is me, and I am no God.” He leans in, biting my lower lip, drawing my blood, and licking it. He smiles down at me wickedly, and says, “I am the Devil incarnate, baby,” as he thrusts hard and deep, pretty much hitting my cervix each time. “Oh, Sir, I’m going to come!” I moan.

He pointed towards the ward down the hallway. Nikolai watched me, waiting for a reaction. I froze and tried to remember where the name came from. My mind went back to days before my wedding. The music at the club was loud. The DJ played with energetic vibes. The bartender mixed two different drinks and slid them towards us. My fingers tightened around the glass as I took a slow sip. Polina's phone vibrated on the table, the screen displayed “Babe.” She didn't hesitate to swipe right and walked toward the exit.

Instead of the hollow sound of wood, I hear a soft click. A compartment opens. Inside lies a black notebook. Untitled, unmarked, just the initials V.M. etched in fading ink. Vittorio Moretti. I open it slowly. No dates. No numbers. Just a list of names, some crossed out, some circled. And beside one name, scrawled in darker ink, two words that make my stomach tighten: Blood Pact. I stare at it, my pulse steady but my hands clenched. Blood Pact. The term my father used for alliances sealed by death, promises that only ended when one party was buried.

“Those pretty eyes can’t stop following Lisa. You’re thinking, ‘what kind of assholes would make someone in her condition work for them?’ Am I right?” “No, I was…” “Well, that is what happened when you think of messing with me. It didn’t take more than two bullets. Yours will be a worse fate if you dare me, I assure you,” the devil dropped before lifting his cup of coffee to his lips. He did it to her? Of course. The food in my mouth suddenly nauseated me, and I pushed it down with a forceful gulp of water. “Excuse me.” I shot up from my chair and left.

Just a simple touch from Jarek gets my libido working overtime. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear he was some kind of witch—someone with power, someone who could bend me to his will. But then again, isn't that the Devil's domain? Yes… I believe it is. And after all these years, I no longer have any doubt—Jarek Falcon isn't just dangerous. He is the Devil himself.

With him being a DEVIL? . . . TBC