life. Demons ruled the world, and mortals that disobeyed were punished as severely as possible. I was a lord over many, and a connection to my prey did not make me weak.
I could almost feel her panic. Though my power reached out to her, testing for any chinks in the angelic virtues she possessed, I found nothing but fear. Fear must’ve been new to her. It was overwhelming, chaotic, and I relished in the darkness of it. She had already begun to fall to the most human of instincts. It was more amusing than anything I’d ever born witness to.
My amusement didn’t last long. My body flinched violently, eyes opening wide of their own accord. I gasped for air. Pain seared through my veins as though fire had replaced the dark blood within them. My heart had begun racing, and I panicked. What was this? It was far too intense to be my normal healing process. It was too precise and too quick. I grabbed a fistful of my shirt the second that I could move something on my own. My eyes were wide, glancing around wildly. My skin was red as blood. My shirt actually was soaked in the substance despite the fact that there were no outward wounds.
The first thing to cause severe pain for me was the sharp crack of my bones. I gasped, clawing at my chest frantically. Crack, crack, crack went my bones. I could even hear my heart at that point, desperately working to keep up with my miraculous healing. I had never felt more pain in my entire life. I nearly bit my tongue, and my eyes frantically sought something to hold onto. I needed something to focus on. Something had to take my mind off this unbearable pain. So I looked at her, and my eyes widened.
Her skin was a hilarious shade of red, though that was the only flaw that I found. It was her eyes that drew me in the most. They were stormy gray, like those of the Fallen. They held endless wonder and curiosity in them at my display of healing. There was joy as well. Was it joy at a stranger’s healing? Was I the cause of her delight? Or had Lilith been wrong? The angel could be a member of the Fallen with eyes like that. Yet I remembered the emotion coming off of her, and I felt deep down that she was the real deal. Despite the mortal shell and beating heart, she belonged to the race I hated most.
Her face twisted in disgust at the continued sound of my bones resetting themselves. I could breathe easily now, and the pain was not the searing, white-hot pain I had been enduring. My eyes locked with hers once more, and I saw a look of surprise come over her reddened face. I wondered briefly if she was blushing, a virtuous maiden embarrassed by the stare of a man. My lips twitched at the thought, but I didn’t manage a full smirk. An angel blushing was a sight I’d definitely love to see.
I began taking in gulps of air like it was some sort of drug that I desperately needed a hit of. I gasped, my newly healed chest taking in each lungful painlessly. The last thing to go was my skin. The redness disappeared, the unnatural paleness of my skin returning steadily. My heart slowed to a normal pace. I took another look at the angel. I was about to say something, to reach out and grab her before she could run off. Instead, my eyes rolled back and I collapsed onto the grass once more.
She told me her name soon after. “My name is Gabrielle.” The rest of her sentence was lost. Gabrielle. The name was too close to his name. A bitter feeling rose within me. I had met the archangel Gabriel only once before. He had been too powerful, too clever for me. He had stripped me of my wings in order to make them grow back, fully and painfully. For an angel, he had a bit of a sadistic streak. If there was anything I hated more than God, it was Gabriel. I actually almost prayed that she wasn’t him in disguise. How strange of him, to pick a woman’s form. I always figured he had some great masculine code. He wouldn’t touch a woman, so why be one? He may have finally Fallen as Lucifer had, and he was cursed
I could almost feel her panic. Though my power reached out to her, testing for any chinks in the angelic virtues she possessed, I found nothing but fear. Fear must’ve been new to her. It was overwhelming, chaotic, and I relished in the darkness of it. She had already begun to fall to the most human of instincts. It was more amusing than anything I’d ever born witness to.
My amusement didn’t last long. My body flinched violently, eyes opening wide of their own accord. I gasped for air. Pain seared through my veins as though fire had replaced the dark blood within them. My heart had begun racing, and I panicked. What was this? It was far too intense to be my normal healing process. It was too precise and too quick. I grabbed a fistful of my shirt the second that I could move something on my own. My eyes were wide, glancing around wildly. My skin was red as blood. My shirt actually was soaked in the substance despite the fact that there were no outward wounds.
The first thing to cause severe pain for me was the sharp crack of my bones. I gasped, clawing at my chest frantically. Crack, crack, crack went my bones. I could even hear my heart at that point, desperately working to keep up with my miraculous healing. I had never felt more pain in my entire life. I nearly bit my tongue, and my eyes frantically sought something to hold onto. I needed something to focus on. Something had to take my mind off this unbearable pain. So I looked at her, and my eyes widened.
Her skin was a hilarious shade of red, though that was the only flaw that I found. It was her eyes that drew me in the most. They were stormy gray, like those of the Fallen. They held endless wonder and curiosity in them at my display of healing. There was joy as well. Was it joy at a stranger’s healing? Was I the cause of her delight? Or had Lilith been wrong? The angel could be a member of the Fallen with eyes like that. Yet I remembered the emotion coming off of her, and I felt deep down that she was the real deal. Despite the mortal shell and beating heart, she belonged to the race I hated most.
Her face twisted in disgust at the continued sound of my bones resetting themselves. I could breathe easily now, and the pain was not the searing, white-hot pain I had been enduring. My eyes locked with hers once more, and I saw a look of surprise come over her reddened face. I wondered briefly if she was blushing, a virtuous maiden embarrassed by the stare of a man. My lips twitched at the thought, but I didn’t manage a full smirk. An angel blushing was a sight I’d definitely love to see.
I began taking in gulps of air like it was some sort of drug that I desperately needed a hit of. I gasped, my newly healed chest taking in each lungful painlessly. The last thing to go was my skin. The redness disappeared, the unnatural paleness of my skin returning steadily. My heart slowed to a normal pace. I took another look at the angel. I was about to say something, to reach out and grab her before she could run off. Instead, my eyes rolled back and I collapsed onto the grass once more.
She told me her name soon after. “My name is Gabrielle.” The rest of her sentence was lost. Gabrielle. The name was too close to his name. A bitter feeling rose within me. I had met the archangel Gabriel only once before. He had been too powerful, too clever for me. He had stripped me of my wings in order to make them grow back, fully and painfully. For an angel, he had a bit of a sadistic streak. If there was anything I hated more than God, it was Gabriel. I actually almost prayed that she wasn’t him in disguise. How strange of him, to pick a woman’s form. I always figured he had some great masculine code. He wouldn’t touch a woman, so why be one? He may have finally Fallen as Lucifer had, and he was cursed
Similar Books
