Wrath: A Seven Deadly Sins Story นิยาย & เรื่องราว

And the earth beneath me buckled, cracked, groaned like it wanted to weep. The battlefield froze. Wolves. Witches. Demons. Even Aldrian. Everything stopped. Because the air was no longer air. It was wrath. My wrath. The ancient kind. The kind that didn’t forgive. The kind that razed kingdoms and drowned gods. The kind the world once sealed away for a reason. I felt it break loose inside me. Like a dam shattering. Like a scream without end. And still, I let it go. I couldn’t stop. I didn’t know how.

He smiled at the startled old man. "I recommend that you speak with Pride and Sloth first. It's much easier to negotiate with those two than with Wrath." It remained silent. The old man fixed his gaze on the briefcase. Sandoval seems to have given up hope of getting its way. "Mr. Sandoval, do you already understand what's going on? If it had just been me, I could have taken you off the list right away. The issue is that you made a mistake at the wrong time and in the wrong place. I'm Lust, one of The Seven Sins Association's seven founders. Don't you think my friends could be here in my kingdom? Particularly those three, the triad."

The guards do as they are told. And now, I am alone with the bloodsucker devil. Ignoring the way my heart is now hammering against my ribs, I lift my chin defiantly at him, rubbing my wrists and boldly speaking out the first words in my mind. “I don't care who you are, but if you are going to kill me, do it quickly because I won’t beg for mercy.” He says nothing in response, but he rises slowly from the throne, his broad shoulders and intimidating height instantly making me gulp.

He took another step forward until the two men were nearly chest to chest, “Crown blood. Strong womb. That makes her mine. I’m the one with the highest points this week. You want to challenge that, Rage? Right here?” Reaper’s smirk widened “I’ll paint the concrete with your guts and still take her while your corpse lays there.” Rage’s face twisted with pure fury. I could see it now.. the history between them. These two were rivals. Long-standing. Blood had been spilled between them before, over points, over status, over the best women in the pens.

"No!!!" Tina was shrieking, "My baby!!! I'm so sorry!!!" Zach came rushing in. "What's wrong?! What happened?! What are you crying for?!" Tina could only keep wailing, "My baby… My baby!!!" Feeling a sense of foreboding, Zach walked up and unwrapped the swaddle to see that it wasn't my daughter, but the son they were so obsessed with! The bastard's cheeks were purple, and he wasn't breathing at all, clearly having been strangled to death.

It is often a sign of recognition. Irresistible Sin is written for readers who understand that morality is not always black and white. That people can hold strong values and still falter. That love can be sincere even when it is complicated. And that sometimes the hardest battles are not between good and evil, but between restraint and truth. This is also a story that respects emotional boundaries. While it explores desire, connection, and temptation, it does so with intention. The focus is not on excess, but on meaning. On what it feels like to want something deeply, to resist it earnestly, and to question who you become in the process.

I gasped, pulling my hand back, my breath hitching. Dante stopped walking. He looked at the statue, then at me. His eyes narrowed. "You saw something." "You... you can't touch anyone," I whispered, the realization hitting me harder than the vision. "The stories are true. Your touch is lethal." Dante’s expression didn't change, but the shadows in the corners of the room deepened, creeping across the floor toward my shoes. "My touch brings decay. To humans, it is agony. To my own kind, it is a slow death. It is the price for the power I wield."

In one brutal motion, he flipped her over, pinning her beneath his heavy arms. “You fucking bitch,” he snarled. Blood dripped from the wound onto her nightdress. His dark eyes burned with fury and pain. Emma struggled wildly beneath him, but it was useless. He was too strong. His blood dropped onto her dress as he grabbed both her wrists and slammed them above her head. He held them down with one hand. The metallic scent of his blood filled the air She watched blood trickle down his chest and onto her nightdress, painting it red. “You bitch! I should have suspected when you let me do everything I wanted,” he shouted. "You will pay for this evil."

I cut him off. The words came out sharp and direct. I wasn't interested in preambles. I wasn't interested in carefully constructed sentences. I wanted a straight answer and I wanted it now. Eric looked at me for a moment. Then he nodded, like he had expected exactly that. "My name is Eric Carrington," he began, his voice dropping slightly, taking on a different weight entirely. "I run one of the largest criminal syndicates in this country. I control a network of underground operations across the city—the casinos, the clubs, the trafficking of weapons, territories, everything that moves in the dark in this city moves because I allow it to.”