The Book of Azrael (Gods & Monsters, #1)

by Amber V. Nicole

“Look, I get it. You have this whole bad boy thing going for you, and I’m sure plenty of women here would love for you to bend them over this very bar, but it’s not going to be me. Trust me. I am actually doing you a favor, because I mean it when I say…”

“I would eat you alive.”

“That stuff is material, D. It doesn’t make you whole.” “It makes me enough.”

“You gave up everything for me, and now you’re forever bound to someone who will never love you, never care about

you beyond what you can do for him.” “I know, but that’s not realistic. Not for me.”

“What are you?” I practically hissed,

“I am a Guardian

of the Etherworld and the Netherworld. The Hand of Samkiel.”

“You know nothing of us, creature. None of The Hand fell. We are still as many as the day Samkiel chose us. And once he learns of your existence, he will come back.” “Come back?”

“You’re lying. All the old gods are dead.”

“No! You shouldn’t be able to escape that. Not unless you are one of the—” Zekiel stopped, his eyes wide and fearful. “It can’t be. Samkiel must know.”

“You really have no idea, do you? Your powers, your strengths?”

“No, but my death will have a purpose. It will bring Samkiel back.”

I whispered the one word I thought had died with Rashearim. “Ig’Morruthens.”

“So, you are him?”

“The feared king. What a title. Your hands must be soaked in blood.”

“The legend himself. The fastest, the strongest among his people, the most ...

“I don’t see it. With the misshapen hair and overgrown beard, you reek of this unkempt vibe. You’re taller than I thought you’d be, and I see the lean muscle fighting machine you have going for you, but I gu...

Henry was gone, and in his place was the woman from the photos. They had not done her justice. The grainy images had not captured the extraordinariness of her.

She was captivating. What I had seen as dark hair was as black as the abyss itself. Her heart-shaped face seemed more angular here, and her dark brows arched over her eyes, framing their dangerous glow. Her lips were full and painted a shade darker than blood. She reminded me of the fanged riztoure beasts from home, striking

and beautiful, bu...

“So, Samkiel, this is your Hand? Not very intimidating, if you ask me. All you have to do is cut one of their hands off, and they’re powerless.”

“You are the one who killed Zekiel?”

“They say you’re a god. Hard to kill and damn near invincible. Weapons have to be forged to snuff out that precious light.”

“Does that make you fireproof?”

“Remember, Ig’Morruthens are smart, calculated, and above all, monsters. A monster is still a monster, no matter what pretty shell it wears.”

I stared as the image of my father, armor and all, flickered before me. No matter the shell I wore, I would still be Samkiel. I was the reason he was dead and Rashearim had fallen. I was the World Ender.

The Ritual of Dhihsin originated with the Goddess Dhihsin. It consisted of a ceremony that bound soul mates irrevocably. They were left with a stylized runic symbol with beautiful flourishes on the third finger of the male’s left hand and the right of the female’s. When they pressed their palms together, the symbols met. The marks were

unique to each couple, and once they were complete, there was no divorce and no leaving.

The bond was forever, and one of the most precious forms of love you could ...

Neverra. That was his last thought? He was facing certain death, and still,

his mind drifted to her, his friends, and his family.

Logan sneered. I saw the silver blade form in his hand. It was smaller than the others, a dagger,

and I knew what he was about to do. “Forgive me, Neverra. I love you.”

Fight back! Fight for something! Gabby’s voice echoed in my head.

I grabbed the blade from Logan as he tried to drive it into his heart.

Alistair chuckled and said, “Good job⁠—” His words ended on a gasp as I yanked the blade from Logan’s hand and spun, shoving it up through Alistair’s chin.

“I have lived for several millennia,” his deep voice echoed from the back of the crowd, “and surprising me is hard to do. But you continue to surprise me.” “Hello, lover. I missed you, too,”

“Let me guess. You would like protection?”

“But not for me,”

“For who?” “My sister.”

“I will help you find what they are looking for, help you kill him. Then, after, you can do whatever you want to me. I’m yours. You can kill me or lock me up for eternity. I don’t care. But for her, I ask for immunity. She is innocent in this. She always has been.”

“Do we have a deal?” “If I agree, there will be no freedom for you. You will pay for the crimes you have

committed. Do you understand that? Regardless of the help you provide.”

“I accept, but I’ll need more than your word.”

“My word is law. No one would disagree.”

“Sorry, Charlie. I have trust issues. I’ll need something a little more permanent and from my world.”

“Sign it in blood, my blood and yours, sealed and unb...

“Repeat after me. Blood of

my blood, my life is sealed with yours until the deal is made complete. I grant you my maker’s life in exchange for my sister’s life. She shall remain free, unharmed, and alive, or the deal is broken. My life is yours after, to do with what you must.”