Wraith Demon Novels & Stories

My study becomes a war room, papers and books scattered across every surface, notes scrawled in margins as I piece together everything I can find about the creature we're facing. The wraith is old. Ancient. One of the few remaining creatures from an era when magic ran wild and unchecked through the world. It feeds on emotional memories—the bonds between mates, between parents and children, between friends. The stronger the emotion, the more powerful the memory, the more sustenance it provides. Which means it will sense me coming from miles away. My shields are strong, yes. But they're also a beacon. A challenge. The creature will know someone with power is near, and it will come for me.

“Thanatos wolf Salem said he won’t let me go. I’m sorry, Dad. But you’ll have to give him one of my other sisters’ hands in marriage.” “You're right; another sister shouldn’t be a big deal. He only wanted you if you had your demon wolf. Hopefully, he’s okay to marry your other sister that doesn’t have one.” “Why on earth would Uncle Darwin want to marry a demon wolf?” “He said his first mate was a demon wolf, and she was killed. Demon wolves are rare to find in girls. Usually, only males have them. You were so young, and it was so long ago I honestly forgot about it.”

Only because he is a fallen angel, everything is full of sad … But that fallen angel had one chance in life that she was given. The roots of the law controversy go all the way back to the fallen angel, Lucifer. He became a corrupt shadow of his former self - a fallen angel trusted neither by Heaven nor Hell. Demon awaiting the Fallen Angel Shaher's revival was killed in battle at the Hall of Corruption by Alphonse. While not a Fallen Angel in the formal sense, it's depressed price relative to the growing fundamental case for silver makes it worth considering.

With Owen's intellect, he wouldn't suspect the hotel's energy had long been compromised. A burning curiosity gnawed at Daemon. Who dared to oppose him? Who had discovered and dismantled the Earthbound Manifestation he meticulously conjured? His hands clasped together, his face a mask of grim determination, he resembled a decrepit ghoul kept alive by unnatural means. Half of his life-extending fortune was gone. Squinting his eyes, Daemon muttered, a low growl escaping his throat, "Nyx." Nyx, the wraithling, was a wisp of a spirit clinging to the living world. Formed from the lingering resentment of a tragically deceased infant, Nyx could replenish his lost vitality as long as he remained.

"Do not test my patience again." He turned and strode away, leaving them to nurse their wounds. He had more pressing matters to attend to. A meeting had been called in the royal chamber, and his presence was required. Entering the grand room, El-Kharis found the other demon royals already assembled. The god of fire, a towering figure with molten eyes and hair like flames, glared at him. His skin was a deep, burnt crimson, and heat radiated from him in waves. Beside him, the earth demon, solid and imposing, watched with a stony expression. His form was like living rock, with veins of precious metals glinting through his granite-like skin. The water demon, fluid and ever-changing, regarded him

he answered. Her face grew serious in a way that made my stomach turn. Astrid was playful, but she was not foolish. If the word wraith unsettled a Prima, then whatever they were, they belonged to old dark places even wolves and Primas did not touch lightly. “How?” Astrid asked. “Wraiths are not supposed to…” She stopped. “They are not supposed to walk like common creatures,” she finished. “They do not walk like common creatures,” Spiro corrected. “They bargain.”

The Source had sensed the active Seed in its graveyard. Intrusion detected, a booming, ancient resonance vibrated through the static. The Failed Seeds must be purged. The New Seed must be reclaimed. From the depths of the static, the "Harvesters of the Dead" emerged. They weren't the Centurions we had fought on Earth. They were "Wraiths"—creatures of pure, entropic data designed to scavenge the Liminal Zone. They looked like giant, skeletal hands made of black glass, reaching through the mist to snatch the flickering ghosts of the failed children.

95) POWER LEVEL: 410,475,450,498 WIELDER TYPE: Energy Wielder; A True Spirit SPECIALTY: Unreal Vitality; Agility GLOWS: Soul Breaker; Spirit Hammer; Destructive Sucking BREATH: Revival “Oh? Revival is sealed?” Mane rubbed his chin in interest upon reading her status. His words caused some panic to flash across the Wraith’s eyes. The rage she was feeling towards Crystal was no more. There was only fear now.

The mere idea that the eerie presence tailing me wasn't just some figment of imagination, but a malevolent entity—a wraith—sent chills down my spine. "Wraiths aren't just any shadows, they're much more than that." His voice, grave and weighted with concern, narrated the sinister nature of this creature. "They are born from the anguish of tortured souls, driven by an insatiable thirst for retribution against those who had wronged it. Since souls, for a better lack for words, can't hold memories…wraiths wait around dark alleys and areas shrouded by darkness, to feed upon the souls of those they deem as threats. In this case, the wraiths have decided to target you for some reason."

“Positions!” The pack scrambled into formation. The sound grew louder, like the hum of hundreds of bees under the skin of the earth. The mist thickened again, swirling in unnatural patterns. I reached for Kael. “It’s him, isn’t it? Ronan?” Lyra shook her head. “No. Something worse. He’s summoned the Wraiths.” Before Kael could ask, the first shape appeared, tall, skeletal, cloaked in black smoke. Eyes like embers burned in the darkness beneath its hood. Then another. And another. A dozen.