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Angel of Destruction;part 1

"He was like a god...born to be worshipped"

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Angelos City, Angelorian continent, Seraphia; 3432: 

Davariel watched his best friend, Kabiel, spread his black wings and take to the lavender and pink streaked heavens. The sun was dipping into a golden ocean, its rays stabbing slashes of light in a breathtaking display.

The dazzling display of nature left Davariel unmoved. Loneliness was a hollow feeling in his heart. Most other fledglings were away visiting their families.

“But not me,” Davariel whispered, peeking out from one corner of the filmy white curtain that draped to either side of his bedroom balcony doors.

Leaning against the cold stone wall, he stared out with a lump forming in his throat.

Family. He had none save for the reapers that had drawn him in one stormy night after he’d been abandoned at the holy city’s gate. Whomever left him hadn’t bothered to cut away the placenta and umbilical cord; just wrapped him in a bloodied old blanket and left him crying in the rain, barely an hour old.

Davariel gazed at the rolling lawns and pewter fountains surrounding the fortress castle, his home, or prison, depending on how one viewed it. Perched atop Mount Sacradous, a wall twenty spans high and fifteen thick kept it separate from the modern metropolis of Angeloria; a metropolis he barely ever saw anymore except whenever he peered out from his balcony doors. It spiraled down the mountain face, close to the surging sea, home to thousands of white winged citizens. To them, Davariel was the prime cause of their grief; the reason thousands upon thousands of off worlders invaded their pristine city…to get a view of him, the most beautiful Seraph ever born. A god.

Davariel sneered. “A wretched prisoner.”

Not wanting to dwell anymore on painful things, he pushed away from the glass doors, tearing off his soctanal from his hips and strode toward the steaming bath set up in the middle of his room.

Placing his hands on the rounded edge of his new jewel-encrusted gold tub, he opened his wings, his reflection catching his attention for a moment.

His blonde hair had grown very long. Some reapers kept it trimmed around their shoulders, but Davariel like feeling it brush the top of his upturned ass. He smiled, despite the melancholy in his soul, and with a few sweeps of his jet wings, he lifted himself into the hot water.

Bliss.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and submerged himself. Once thoroughly soaked, he rose and reached for a bottle of his favorite wash and sponge.

He heard the hum of Kabiel’s wings, the other fledgling reaper talking as he recorded images with his new crystal vid.

“They stand there all day long, once every moon cycle, calling him...and what does that son-of-a-bat do?”

Davariel knew Kabi referred to the horde of off worlders swarming around the holy city of Angelos walls…waiting to get a glimpse of him. Not today.

The sound of wings fluttering in the breeze stopped with a thump that announced the chestnut-haired reaper had landed on Dava’s balcony.

“He snubs them like the conceited ass he is,” Kabiel finished in a loud voice, obviously trying to goad Davariel.

Davariel just ignored him, like usual, bringing the big soapy sponge over his head. He squeezed, allowing the suds to drench him, head back, throat arched, tight-nippled chest pushed out. How he loved to tease with his body, and Kabiel’s silence only attested to Davariel’s legendary beauty. He knew Kabi stared entranced and spread his wings farther upon feeling the last rays of the sunset strike his wet body.

Kabi cleared his throat, as if shaking himself from his stupor. “Look at that pretty girl indulging in her bath,” he teased, but his voice came out deep, aroused.

Davariel grinned, opening his eyes to see pink staining Kabi’s cheek guiltily. Feeling wicked, Dava tucked his wings behind his back, and spread his thighs as he raised his hips. “Come here,” he purred, “let me show you how much of a girl I am.”

Kabiel snorted, trying to hide his smile. “Have you no shame, reaper? I’m recording this for my dear sweet mother.”

Davariel rolled his eyes. “Oh, well . . .” he laughed, rising from the water, “in that case, let’s give her something beautiful to visualize when she mounts your father.”

His best friend’s silver eyes went round when Dava gripped his erection and stroked in a lazy rhythm. He never stopped recording, but instead turned the crystal orb to get a closer shot of Davariel shamelessly masturbating. Kabiel burst out laughing when Dava tweaked one of his nipples with his free hand and wiggled his tongue with all the perversion he could muster.

“Brat,” Kabiel exclaimed.

“Me?” Davariel made a show out of looking offended. “She’s the one always trying to get her hands into my soctanal,” he replied, mentioning the traditional fledgling reaper’s black satin loincloth.

Kabiel gave him a wry grin and shrugged. “We’re supposed to be angels.” He wiggled his wings for emphasis.

Davariel rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Death angels, Kabi.” He lowered himself back into the warm water. “We kill demons and devils. Nothing angelic in killing.”

He slipped beneath the water for a few seconds and resurfaced, spreading his wings wide, and shaking them. Droplets of water rained everywhere.

Kabiel, shielded himself and his vid-crystal from the deluge with his own wings. “That’s what we reapers are born and bred to do,” he pointed out from beneath his feathers.

The door squeaking open drew their attention. Davariel already knew it was the high priest, Gadriel without having to turn his head to look behind him. The older reaper frequently came to him when he bathed. It seemed today would be no different from usual.

Kabiel gulped, his eyes wide as he took a few steps back.

The high priest stalked forward, Kabiel backing up even more until he tripped on the step that marked the bedroom floor from the balcony. His wings twitched out to steady him before clipping tight against his back. Gadriel marched to the balcony with a frown and closed the glass doors on Kabiel and his annoying vid-crystal.

“B-but how am I supposed to get to my room, father Gadriel?” Kabiel tapped on the glass with annoying persistence.

“You can climb down,” Gadriel’s voice roared, making Kabiel flinch and move away from the glass. “And if I catch you flying within sacred grounds again, I shall thrash your bare hide, boy.” The high priest gripped the wide leather belt cinched low on his narrow hips, making Kabiel gape and shudder.

With that fledgling reaper scooted over the edge of the balcony and disappeared.

Davariel snickered, closing his eyes once more as he angled his head back. “You’d enjoy doing that, wouldn’t you, father?” It wouldn’t be the first time father Gadriel had reddened a fledgling’s ass.

He opened his wings as he squeezed the wet sponge over his head. Davariel couldn’t help the smug grin that graced his lips. He knew the picture he presented, with his neck tipped back, body arched seductively as water from the sponge cascaded over him. He knew exactly how much power he held over the high priest at that moment.

After rubbing the excess water from his eyes, Davariel opened them to see Gadriel kneeling next to the gold tub with a look of utter adoration on his face. The high priest’s silver eyes raked over his body as he sighed.

His eyes....

Davariel reached over to his right and picked up a mirror. Once again, he looked into his own face. Every reaper had silver-grey eyes...except for him. His eyes were not only a shocking shade of electric blue, they were larger than normal, almost encompassing the entire white area, making Davariel unique amongst other reapers. He always wondered why. What alien species had contributed to his conception? That was the reason he was named Davariel. It meant God’s different one in the ancient cherubic tongue of the Dominatio’s.

Davariel frowned at his face. He didn’t want to be different. He longed to be free, to be normal, have a family, someone to love and that loved him, maybe his own chicklings to call him papa.

Yes.

Gadriel gently pulled the mirror away from Davariel’s face, breaking into his reverie. The high priest’s eyes smoldered with barely repressed lust. “Such a beautiful sight, my Davariel.”

Davariel lowered his lashes with a coy smile. At least he was father Gadriel’s special boy. “My new tub? The ruler of a Fae planetary system sent it as a gift.”

“No, silly angel.” Father Gadriel laughed. “You. You’re the beautiful one.” He reached out and caressed Davariel’s face.

Davariel’s smile faded with a wistful sigh as he recalled one of the special visitors he had Kabiel pluck out of the horde of visitors today. It was a young Seraphian girl with wings so white they were almost blue.

He bit his lip, leaning into Gadriel’s caress as he looked up from beneath his gold tipped lashes. “I met a girl today. She was one of the privileged ones allowed into our city.”

Davariel held his breath, waiting. Surely, father Gadriel would understand his curiosity.



Gadriel’s grin waned. He’d screened the special visitors and there was no girl amongst them. He’d never allow a temptation near his beloved angel. Of course, he knew Davariel occasionally would have his friends fish people out from amidst the throngs that came to see him. Whoever caught his fancy he’d have brought to him, like a child picking out sweet treats at the market.

Bringing aliens onto sacred grounds was forbidden, but since Davariel had no blood family to visit, the high priests and priestesses had taken pity on him and allowed him the indulgence. When Davariel was smaller, he’d pretend the alien was his mother who’d come, or his father. It was always the same. The angel-struck creature would pick him up and hold him for hours, until visiting time came to an end. Then they would have to pry the child from the hysterical alien. There were times when Davariel had cried too as he waved bye-bye to another pseudo mommy or daddy.

But now, having come into full sexual bloom, Gadriel should have known Davariel would eventually start plucking out girls for his pleasure. The very thought had the dark haired reaper gritting his teeth in irritation

Davariel raised his face. “I like her. I want you to find her and include her in our games.”

“Absolutely not,” Gadriel bellowed, his voice echoing in the large chamber.

He reared back when Davariel slammed his fists into the water and screamed like a child having a tantrum. “Why not?”

Not wanting the boy to work himself into a belligerent mood, the high priest cleared his throat and tried in a softer voice, “Calm yourself, sweetling.”

“I will not.” Davariel stood, the water cascading down his long, lean body, like a shimmering curtain. “I want her.” He faced the high priest undaunted, fists clenched at his sides.

Gadriel’s eyes couldn’t help but devour the sight. He gulped and tried to raise his eyes to the young warrior’s angered face. “Temptation. You must stay away from-”

“What difference is there if I play the same game with her that you play with me? I want to know what it feels like to be with a woman.”

Davariel’s wings fluttered behind him, lifting him from the tub. His soaked hair left a trail of water that streamed from his curled toes as he flew to the side of his bed. He flung himself belly first onto the burgundy, satin coverlet that draped the round, angel-sized bed.

Gadriel rushed over to where he lay. His hands itched to mold themselves to all that wet, silky flesh, but he knew he needed to be patient. The fledgling reaper could become upset enough to tell someone about their secret games. Reapers were forbidden to engage in any sexual activity. Just because Gadriel used the scantivale to keep their auras from mingling didn't mean he wouldn't be punished. Davariel was just so beautiful, Gadriel could not help bt desire the young warrior 

“She’ll never be satisfied allowing you to play with her through the scantivale,” Gadriel pleaded, mentioning the transparent barrier they always used in their erotic games. “She’ll eventually want to feel you skin to skin. Please, Davariel. She’ll make you fall from grace.”

When Gadriel reached out to caress him, the young reaper shrank away from his touch in contempt. “Don’t touch me. I want Levinia.” Davariel’s eyes narrowed to furious blue slits. “If I can’t have her, you’ll never touch me again.”

Those words sent a shock of alarm through Gadriel. He was addicted to Davariel’s charms and the mere thought of never being able to touch him again made him want to lash out and hurt someone, Davariel included.

“But, son, be reasonable,” he insisted. “You’re a holy warrior. We’re not allowed to take mates.”

“Then I don’t want to be a fucking holy warrior,” Davariel snarled back.

Fury filled Gadriel like bitter poison. He clenched his fists, struggling not to give in to the desire to slap that beautiful face. Petulant, spoiled little shit. Never. He would never let Davariel go. It was time to teach the unruly youth a lesson.

He took a deep breath and smiled at Davariel’s scowling face. “It’s alright, my sweet boy. Father Gadriel will help you.” His smile broadened as he palmed his impatient cock. “Don’t I always give you everything you want? I love you.”

Chapter One

Eighty years later; New York City, North American continent, Earth; 3512: 

Luciel gripped the hilt of her sword. The edge of the blade dripped black blood on the grimy sidewalk. It seemed like the end of time was upon the entire universe. There were hordes of devils and demons everywhere, killing and destroying everything in their paths. In the short time it had taken to teleport from her penthouse to the scientific complex where she usually trained, she’d encountered about twenty devils and six demons, all quickly disposed of by her own hand.

Luciel usually took the monorail to get into the center of the city, but ever since the whole planet had gone to hell in the past week, she’d had to resort to the risky and tricky deal of teleporting. She gazed across the street at the shattered tube of the monorail. Hovercrafts, and other personal air transports littered the streets like fallen over-ripe fruit. Most of them had been driven to the ground on purpose, piloted by demonically possessed citizens bent on murder and destruction.

Five cruisers made their way across the sky, their saucer-shaped hulls casting misshapen oval shadows across the devastation surrounding Luciel. Galactic guardian soldiers, scouting out survivors. There were humans who hadn’t succumbed to possession; the pure of heart. Luciel raised her sword to signal she was alright. It didn’t matter, though. They would recognize her. She was the only Earth-born Master Guardian.

She sensed the presence of a life force approaching and turned to face the newcomer.

A brief flash of blue-white light faded to reveal a white winged Seraph dressed in the same black uniform Luciel was wearing. Aria’s light brown hair curled about her round face and her green eyes stared at Luciel. In them, Luciel saw the reflection of the desolation spread out around them.

“There are too many of them.” The Seraph’s voice was like the soft wash of a flowing spring, so at odds with the ruins surrounding them.

Luciel looked about. Most of the city was burned out, the smoke having turned the sky grey. Blackened buildings with smashed windows stood like terrified witnesses to the struggle between good and evil being waged in the city. Amidst the crashed hover-crafts and transports were human bodies, strewn about in various stages of decomposition; the carcasses of those once possessed. Those not killed were hiding.

There were other pulses of life forces around them...devils. They hid amid the debris and rotting corpses; skulking in the sewers, waiting for the right moment to strike. The demons were different. They were actual divine fallen angels, not Seraphian-born beings. When they appeared they killed without mercy or hesitation.

“What about reapers?” Luciel toed one body that seemed to be moving a bit, only to startle a large rat that had been feasting within the corpse. The rodent scurried over her black boot into a nearby magazine booth on the street corner, screeching in protest.

“Davariel has killed so many of them. The few thousand reapers that remain are scattered over the invaded worlds trying to destroy as many of the demons and devils as they can.” Avaria shook her head, her eyes misting over. “Luciel, as long as the rift remains open more of them will keep pouring out.”

Luciel tried not to shudder at the mention of that name. Davariel; the beautiful black-winged Seraph that had haunted her dreams as a child, sung to her, played with her, and when she bloomed into a young woman, kissed her the way a man kisses a woman he desires. His mouth sealed over hers, tongue delving in to taste every centimeter of hers until she thought her knees would give from the emotion. Luciel hadn’t known who the beautiful black-winged angel was at first. It was on her sixteenth birthday, the day she received her divine sword from a Dominatio turning her into a human arch angel and her ascent into becoming a fully fledged Master Guardian that she realized with sickening horror, that the beautiful angel she was in love with was the very one she was ordered to kill. The same one who’d unleashed the reign of Hell in the universe—the angel of destruction, Davariel of Angelos.

She turned away and cleaned her blade on a stack of newspapers which were still tied in a neat bundle. “I’ve managed to get close enough to cut him during the holographic training sessions.”

“Luciel, letting you battle him . . .”

“I know-I know.” She spun around, her long, dark hair feathering across her face. “I won’t let him capture me.” She knew very well that Davariel needed a virgin Master Guardian. The purity and power of the virgin’s blood would strengthen his demonic sword which would be used to finish breaking open the gates to hell. “But if he does capture me, I have another plan.”

Avaria shook her head and opened her lips to say something more. The feel of icy-cold dread slithered up Luciel’s spine, making her look around before snapping her gaze back to Avaria who stood poised with her sword unsheathed, in a battle ready stance. The Seraph Master Guardian also surveyed their surroundings. Luciel felt as if she’d lived this moment before. What? Something was going to happen. Someone approached...a wall of crackling power...pure evil...

Seven demons materialized; three sprung out from a dark crevice between two buildings, two others crawled out of a puddle of blood that had pooled in a large hole in the gutter and the other two descended screeching from a rooftop. Avaria and Luciel launched themselves into battle against the creatures.

Sunken yellow eyes in corpse-like faces with pointed brown teeth, the fallen angels always transformed their true beauty into terrifying visages. It helped them feed off the energy of terror they evoked. Some of them had no color, their translucent wrinkled skin showing their putrid innards. The others had a bluish or grey hue to their leather-like flesh. They also fed on the emotions of anger and hatred, so Luciel made sure to keep her feelings well reined.

Her blade sliced across the neck of a blue demon that flew at her. The creature’s head sailed about twenty feet before hitting a light pole and falling into a mesh trash can. Two more Master Guardians appeared and helped them battle the demons, using their white wings as well as their blades to fight.

Even though Luciel did not have wings, she was by no means at a disadvantage. She impaled two more demons and was about to go after a third, but one of the Master Guardians intercepted, killing the creature before she did. Luciel panted as she watched the carnage around her. More demons appeared and a few devils; so many.

She suddenly found herself surrounded by five demons. They were much larger than the others. Their sunken gold eyes stared at her, assessing. A burgundy one moved closer. Luciel crouched, raising her sword to battle, but the creature only sniffed at her. A grin spread across its leathery face; jagged brown teeth in a razor-sharp smile. It growled and hissed, speaking in a language to the others she didn’t comprehend. When they backed away from her, Luciel frowned in confusion.

Lightning flashed and thunder threatened in the distance as the fetid breeze blew loose pieces of paper and dead leaves around her feet. Somewhere in the distance, there was an explosion. A flock of devils were being chased in the sky by six reapers. It all seemed so familiar.

The dream; this was all as in the dream she kept having. Heart thudding, she spun around and stared at the scientific complex. Visions of Davariel standing inside the atrium filled her mind.

He was coming. She could feel him.

Luciel gathered her power about her, and teleported inside the building.

The emergency lighting shed a faint glow in the large atrium, casting grotesque shadows in the corners and around the scant furniture dotting the lobby. The last time she’d been here, everyone had fled in terror at the first sign of demonic possession. That sign still laid split in two, innards spilled in a dried pool of blood upon the shiny, grey, marble floor.

Luciel wrinkled her nose as she walked around the remains of what had once been the maintenance supervisor, Mr. Preschel. The last time she’d been here for briefing on the genetic codes of the demons, Mr. Preschel had started growling and hissing like rabid dog. Before he could attack one of the young lab techs, Luciel had stopped him in his tracks in half a blink. She never did like that man, especially after she’d nabbed him trying to molest the teenaged son of one of the receptionists in the restroom. She had felt the boy’s terror emanating in waves as she walked down the corridor.

The low heels of her boots echoed in the atrium as she moved with stealth, feeling the oppressive presence of evil pressing in on her. Outside, she felt the life force of the Master Guardians battling more demons.

Luciel caught a glimpse of herself in the mirrored doors of the elevators. Tossing back the sleek fall of jet-black hair she’d inherited from her Asian father, she palmed her laser-gun. It was utterly useless against demons and devils. They absorbed the energy put out by the weapon as though it were candy. Her black uniform hugged her like a second skin, yet was comfortable to fight in. She sighed as she gazed into her own eyes. She’d had them permanently enhanced to the same icy-blue shade her mom had. Both of her parents had perished during this God-forsaken war. Their space transport had been under attack by Grei aliens out in open space. Her father had opted to self destruct the cruiser, rather than fall prey to the aliens. She was barely five years old at the time, just enrolled into Edenia’s Master Guardians academy.

A new wave of energy skittered along her skin making her shiver.

Don’t look into his eyes— she reminded herself. Davariel had the ability to enthrall like a vampire. Don’t let yourself become mesmerized by his beauty, don’t let his voice hypnotize you. The last thing she needed was to become angel-struck, a euphoria induced stupor that affected most beings when seeing Davariel for the first time. The second stage of being angel-struck was hysteria, and the need to hold him.

She closed her eyes and swallowed. I can do this. I can kill him. Have to kill him.

Visions of his making love to her filled her mind, but she shoved them away. Her lust for Davariel was her shameful secret, but she wasn’t going to let that dissuade her from her destiny; to slay the angel of destruction.

Allowing her immeasurable telekinetic powers to roll out in waves, she sensed his approach, but he was confusing his essence, not allowing her to gage where he would appear. The windows, the doors....

An explosion of glass above her gave little warning as the dome of the science building shattered into a million pieces. Glass fell like rain, bouncing off her protective telepathic shield.

She tried to keep her gaze impassive as the seven-foot demon landed with astonishing grace before her. The magnificent black wings were gone, replaced by a pair of imposing, bright red, devil’s wings. The wingspan from tip to tip had to be at least fourteen feet. His eyes had changed also. Now they glowed as if the fires of hell burned within their electric blue depths.

Davariel smiled, lowering his blood soaked sword, his eyes looking her over with keen interest.

Oh...my...God. She forced herself to breathe again as her eyes feasted upon the object of her lust-filled fantasies. The legendary Davariel was standing before her in the flesh.

He was naked, drenched from head to toe in blood. His hair was crimson with it, but despite all the gore covering him, he was still the most spectacular being she’d ever seen in her life.

The enormity of his transformation hit her. Why had this perfect creature decided to become so evil? She’d observed holographic visuals of how he was before the transformation and, yes, he was conceited and perversely wild, but that wasn’t what stood before her now.

“Why?” Luciel shook her head, trying to understand. “How could you let yourself become this?” She suddenly had the overwhelming urge to cry and gave herself a mental shake. She would not allow herself to become angel-struck.

“ Everyone and everything made me this,” he whispered back to her, his smile fading as his eyes burned into hers, making every hair on her body stand on end.

She struggled to grasp his meaning. Beings adored him like a god. How could that have spurred this...abomination?

“I almost don’t want to kill you,” he added in a deep, mesmerizing tone, sniffing at her. “Your desire for me is strong, and I find you very tempting...I think I’d rather fuck you.”

The outrageous statement rolled off his tongue as if he were commenting on the weather. However, it wasn’t the words, but the heated response of her body that shocked her.

“Maybe after I weaken you a little, I’ll bind you, then fuck you,” he continued with a flirtatious smile. “Would you like that?”

She gave her head a little shake to get her wits back and sneered. “I’ll be the one weakening you, Davariel.”

His wings opened up behind his back as he stretched out his arms in mock surrender. “Then do with me as you wish, beautiful girl. Fuck me for as long and hard as you want.”

The unholy bastard has the most mesmerizing voice. Luciel blinked dazed for a few seconds, then she remembered her mission. The fallen angel had to die.

“I won’t fuck you, Dark Prince. I aim to destroy your heart.” She lifted her sword for impact and slowly circled around him.

He tilted his head, his amused gaze following her every movement. “Tell me your name, pretty girl.”

She steeled herself against the seductive pull of his physical perfection and voice. “Luciel Nguyen. I’m your angel of death, death angel.”

He made a sad little pout. “Even if you lose and I kill you, my heart will still be destroyed, Luciel, my love.” The way he said her name was like a caress, and the rest of his words made no sense to her.

What the hell did he mean? What a bizarre male.

The fighting began before she could even blink. He used everything against Luciel, intent on destroying her...his strength, his power, even his mind, trying to push horrific images into hers’, which she blocked.

Her blows met his, strike for strike, the blades shooting out sparks as they clashed in fury. Luciel’s body began emanating a fiery glow as she used her powers to surpass his physical strength and speed.

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The effort didn’t seem to faze him. She knew he was the best swordsman among his kind. He was legendary. The average Master Guardian, with all their telekinetic capacity, could never surpass a reapers’ skill with a sword.

But Luciel wasn’t your average Master Guardian.

She swiped at him with her blade, going for his throat. He flew over her, spinning upside down in the air, thrusting his sword toward her heart, but she teleported herself to where he was going to land, stabbing up to impale him. He foresaw her tactic and hovered over the blade. He laughed and stuck his tongue out at her like the spoiled brat he was.

“Bastard,” she hissed and swung. One blond, bloodied tendril of hair dropped to the floor.

He gasped, up righting himself, blinking surprised eyes at her. “My hair. That wasn’t very nice, Luci.”

“Bite me,” she spat.

He smiled at her, revealing long sharp fangs.

With a frustrated growl, she reengaged him in battle. She felt as though he were flying in circles around her, making her head spin. Davariel managed to knock her sword arm back and crush her body to his. His head dipped and she was stunned when he ran his tongue across her lips.

She slowed down time, her power gathering within her like a super nova about to blow. His sword inched to her ribcage, ready to run her through as she prepared to telepathically ram her own hand into his chest and proceed to rip his heart out. They would die together. The thought made her smile.

She wasn’t prepared to see stars dancing before her eyes. He’d thrown her across the lobby, against the steel framework of an abstract work of art sitting within a large fountain. She tasted blood in her mouth, then teleported out in time before Davariel’s sword split her in two.

Luciel began to suspect he had abilities she wasn’t aware of.

He attacked again, managing to bash her sword from her hand this time. She recovered it telepathically, ducking just in time before his blade separated her head from her neck, but not before sending the pointed tip of a nearby flagpole whistling straight toward him. The sharp tip grazed his wing as he spun to avoid being impaled. His gasp of shock was audible. She’d almost succeeded in running him through that time.

Now it was her turn to smirk, the feel of warm blood trickling down her chin. She even stuck her tongue out at him.

He blinked at her in astonishment, then his glowing blue eyes went black, no whites showing. She knew it was a sign the fallen reaper had gone into kill mode. Heaven help her now.

“Drop your sword and I’ll spare your life, Luci. Our dance can be one of lust not death.”

Talk about a friggin’ one track mind. She raised her hand and gave him the finger.

“Pretty please,” he implored with a childish whine.

The demon bastard was trying to act cutesy. She stuck up her other middle finger from the hand holding the sword, tilting her head to the side with a snort.

He chuckled, then came at her again in blinding speed with a snarl.

She was at the limit of her powers trying to keep up with him in his kill mode.

The metallic sound of the swords rang out and echoed in the atrium as the battle raged on seemingly without end. Davariel’s muscles rippled with every fluid move, but the sight of his enormous cock jutting up against his belly was very distracting. His insolent smile told her he knew it was distracting.

She had to kill him. All of creation would be doomed if she didn’t.

The first hour of the battle he constantly aimed for her throat or vital organs, and then he switched to bashing her sword with his blade so hard her teeth were already beginning to rattle in her head. Apparently, Davariel had decided she’d do just fine as the virgin sacrifice and was now trying to disarm her instead of killing her.

Ha.

He was in for a big surprise if he thought this virgin was going down easily. She wondered how he planned to capture her because he sure as hell was nowhere near defeating her.

She spun neatly out of the way, as the tip of his blade sliced a hairs’ breadth away from her belly, but the tip of hers caught his wing again. It was just a nick, but he snarled in anger. Blood oozed from the nicked wing; black demon’s blood, falling like tears to stain the floor.

Once again, she felt her heart twist in sadness over Davariel’s fall from grace.

Nevertheless, feeling more determined to put an end to this ordeal, she managed to nick him again, this time right over his left nipple. He backed off, clenching his fists and baring his teeth with a furious roar. What a sore loser. The unholy sound echoed in the immense atrium.

He was finally silent, his eyes narrowing as a sly smile spread across his beautiful blood smeared face. That couldn’t be good. She heard exquisite singing and almost expected to see a chorus of angels floating above her head. What she did see made her scream...in impotent rage.

Blackness overtook her.

Chapter Two

A stinking mermaid. It was the last thing she recalled seeing suspended in the opening where the glass dome had once covered the building. A scaly, slimy creature, held in the embrace of a grey winged devil that smirked behind the singing mermaid.

She hated the disgusting creatures and the mind distorting effects of their voices.

Swearing inwardly, she opened her eyes and her heart sank. She was power bound to a black marble-like altar, face down and naked.

She struggled to release herself, sensing Davariel’s essence all around her, but it was useless. Luciel was amazed at the extent of power he emanated. Why hadn’t anyone realized he had developed the abilities of a Master Guardian?

Dredging up a slew of colorful cuss words, she decided it was time to put plan B into action.

Davariel had a weakness. He was sexually insatiable. Aside from killing and bathing in his victims’ blood, he loved fucking… to the point of distraction, she might add. Ironically, many crazed females, with penchants for demons, lined up for the privilege of having him fuck them within an inch of their lives. She was going to have to pretend to be one of those females.

Right, Luci. Keep telling yourself that.

She blew out a frustrated breath. She needed to get a grip. The blood ritual, if completed would bring about the destruction of all. Luciel had to lose her virginity and, while she had him distracted, proceed to rip the demon bastard’s black heart out.

She looked around. The chamber she was in appeared to be carved within a cave. The floor was black ashy dirt and the walls rough, deep red stone. Strange stones illuminated the dank, hot, cavernous room dully, casting misshapen shadows within the many cracks and crevices. All around her were whispers, growling, and low menacing laughter, even though she couldn’t see its source in the gloom. The stench of decay, dank moisture, and something acrid made her want to gag.

Where the hell am I? Again, she swore mentally.

She tugged at the power bonds and sighed in frustration.

And where is that blond son-of-a-

Speak of the devil and in he walks...leather strap in hand. She swallowed hard.

Behind Davariel, four more demons entered, but separated once within the cavernous room, taking a stand in each of the four corners of the chamber.

Not good.

They were hideous creatures with thick wrinkly skin, boney faces and curved spiny backs. One was a burgundy color, another bluish, the third greenish and the last one grey. They snickered, watching her with their glowing yellow eyes, making her skin crawl.

Great. Now she had an audience that would most likely kill her after she ripped Davariel’s heart out. It didn’t matter. She was willing to sacrifice her life in order to kill the angel of destruction. Davariel had to die.

Once more, he was naked, but this time clean of any gore. His hair gleamed gold, streaked with pale blond, and he emanated a sweet scent that obliterated the unholy stench in the chamber. She tried not to stare, focusing her attention on his bare feet as he approached her, but to her dismay, even his feet seemed to enthrall her. They were long, slender, delicately boned; every toe with a perfectly square rosy nail. Not a single hangnail or hammer toe—damn.

Luciel closed her eyes with a groan of misery. When she reopened them, he’d crouched down so that his eyes were level with hers, and cocked his head to one side. “Are we comfy?”

She let her gaze drop to his mouth, afraid of looking into those mesmerizing blue eyes that were even more breathtaking up close. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a better option. His full lips were smooth, kissed with a dewy, pink blush that made her want to bite at them....

With a start, she closed her eyes, angry with herself at becoming distracted with him again.

Come-on, Luciel Nguyen. You’re a tough-assed New York City girl. Are you gonna let this pretty-boy get the best of you?

“Well, you certainly know how to make a girl feel right at home,” she said with bitter sarcasm, then let her head drop with a thud onto the altar in despair. She berated herself mentally.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. You’re supposed to seduce him. Fuck him silly-rip black heart out.

She heard him chuckling, then felt him stroke her hair. “You speak strangely, little Edenian.”

She struggled half-heartedly against the power bonds and tried for a seductive stare...that is, if she could keep herself from melting beneath his own seduction. Heaven help her. Those eyes. She opened her mouth to say something—anything—but became lost in his gaze, that face, those lips...Oh God. He’s an absolute dream.

“Fuck me,” was all she could whisper like some star-struck adolescent girl. She didn’t mean it in the literal sense; it was just a stupid thing one said when one didn’t know what else to say. Then again, she’d have to be dead from the brain down not to wonder how Davariel would feel snuggled up between her thighs.

A little voice in the back of her head was screaming at her, telling her that she was letting herself become angel-struck, but she ignored the annoying voice, opting to let her gaze drop down to his lap instead. Oh, God, yes. That was so much nicer. Ignore the voice…devour that….

A sound startled her. It was coming from her mouth. She whimpering like a bitch in heat.

Yep…I’ve lost my mind.

The glowing of his eyes intensified as he licked his smiling lips.

“So you want me to fuck you after all, little Luci?” He laughed as he traced the outline of her mouth with the tip of his finger. “Are you having naughty thoughts about me, pretty girl?”

Through the hazy lust-filled fog turning her brain to mush, she realized Davariel’s glowing irises were larger than most humanoids. The effect was hypnotic, drawing her in. He had the eyes of an incubus. Hadn’t the scientists theorized Davariel to be cambion because of his innate ability to enthrall? Part incubus, part Seraph. No one knew who his parents were.

Those sinful lips she’d been dying to sample rubbed softly over her mouth making her sigh. “We’re allowed to kiss, Luci… and touch,” he murmured before deepening the kiss, letting his tongue sweep into her mouth. She trembled, moaned, and thrust her hips against the smooth stone of the altar, trying to ease the terrible ache that had her swollen and throbbing for him. He withdrew. “And I am very well allowed to mind fuck you.”

Reality shifted like a ripple across a reflective surface and she suddenly found herself on her back, her wrists tied to a wrought iron bed in what looked like the burned out remains of a castle.

Is this real? Did he teleport us somewhere else?

The wind howled with a deafening roar through the large bare hole in one wall. It showed an expanse of sky seething with dark, almost reddish, black clouds. The red glow from the gloom outside illuminated only half of Davariel, who stood at the foot of the bed, looking at her with a tormented intensity she did not comprehend.

The wind blasting into the charred ruins of the room whipped his long hair around his body. The gold strands caressed well sculpted pectorals, not overly large, and his abs looked as if carved by an artist’s loving hand, well defined and rock hard.

The bright red wings snapped open, and with a quick fluttering motion, brought him above her. Hands clasped between his legs, he looked undecided as to what to do first.

His arms rippled with ropey muscles and he had the most beautiful thighs she’d ever seen on a man. She’d dreamt of touching those thighs, stroking her fingers and tongue over them, making him tremble in anticipation.

He flew in closer, settling his knees to either side of her face.

Words were unnecessary. The intent clear. She should have been terrified, repulsed, yet her body trembled with impatient anticipation

What am I doing? Luciel, snap out of it. Keep your head on straight or all will be lost.

Even as the thought flitted through her mind, she found herself opening her mouth with the eagerness of a starving prostitute.

Davariel . She moaned around the mouthful of male flesh.

She devoured him in adoration, making him shudder. The magnificent fallen angel undulated his breathtaking torso like a snake over her. She’d never seen a man move with such fluid sensuality. Davariel was as graceful as he was beautiful. Wisps of pale gold streamed down his body to his hips, tickling her cheeks a bit as he moved. He groaned with pleasure, his hands gripping the metal headboard.

His eyes blazed into hers, his hand coming down and caressing her cheek with a tenderness that moved her. Something inside her melted, softened, and bloomed.

He, on the other hand, looked shattered, devastated, as if he hadn’t expected so much ecstasy.

He closed his eyes with a whimper, then shook his head. “ No-n o-no. I can’t. I mustn’t feel this.”

His hand rubbed over his heart, as if it ached, then he closed it into a tight fist, punching the wall behind the metal headboard. With an angry snarl, he clenched his teeth, showing gleaming sharp fangs.

His eyes closed and he took a deep breath.

He began to utter words in another language, the angelic tongue of the Dominatio. She understood him perfectly and shivered in fear at his words. “I am the dark prince, the light of mourning. Cursed is he who walks in light, for I shall bring about eternal darkness. Blood and despair are my gifts to those of this realm. I give back what was given to me...a dark loveless life.”

He suddenly pulled free from her mouth and slipped down to plunge into her. She screamed in distress at the cleaving pain.

“Aw—does it hurt, Master Guardian? Does it really hurt?” He screamed the last words in a fit of rage. 

She willed her trembling body to relax, accept the punishing thrusts. The pain of his possession melted away to a dark pleasure that had her spreading her thighs wider and meeting his driving strokes. Molten desire threatened to consume her with every slap of his hips against her pelvis. He rocked against her with a force that made her pert breasts bounce. With his wings fanning behind him, she was able to wrap her legs around his trim waist. Her sharp cries of discomfort smoothed out to low moans of gratification as she tugged the ties holding her wrists above her head. She longed to touch him, stroke that silky flesh and tangle her fingers in his blond mane.

“Oh, yes,” she moaned in ecstasy. “Please, Davariel. Untie me. Let me touch you too. I want....”

He kissed her-hard. Heaven help her. She wasn’t supposed to enjoy this, but she was; enjoying every single delicious inch of it. She kissed him back with equal fervor, making him moan. Her legs tightened around him as she struggled to grind herself harder against his vigorous thrusts. The music of their coupling seemed to rise above the roar of the wind; the soft sighs, the moans. Again, he groaned in gratification, sliding his face into her neck, inhaling her sweet essence.

“You smell of...love,” he sighed in bliss.

Davariel’s head rose up enough to look into her eyes.

“Luciel, my....” he stopped and bit his lip. He looked tormented, agonized, then snapped upright with a soul-shattering scream that reverberated throughout the castle.

She cried, wanting to beg him to stop.

The absurdity of her thoughts struck her. She was supposed to kill him...like now. Why in hell’s name was she obsessing about him clawing himself like a mad man?

The image of everything around her rippled like a reflection in a pool of water, shimmering away to nothingness, until once again, she found herself power bound to the altar in the cavern. She was still face down, surrounded by four snarling demons as Davariel blinked emotionless eyes at her. He was still crouched in the same position. Luciel stared in shock and terror at him.

“It was all in your mind, Luci. You’re still a virgin,” he continued in that soft, sweet, serene tone of his. “Your little plan of seduction at getting me to ruin you for the sacrifice didn’t work. You will be the virginal sacrifice, sweet Luci." He stood with a frown, contemplating her sullenly. "Sleep my love."

And she knew no more.


Chapter Three 

Luciel stirred, her sluggish mind foggy. The sneaky bastard had tranced her to sleep. Her body felt sore, reminding her of the epic battle she'd had with Davariel. He was as good as the legends touted, but he hadn't beaten her. Just stooped to underhanded method's to capture her. At least she was lying on a soft comfortable bed, though she had no idea where.

Lifting her head, she made out a small room, illuminated by the weak light filtering in through its single window. The walls looked as if they had once been white. Now they were a dingy cream color, unadorned except by the wooden moldings surrounding the door and window in the sparsely furnished room. The bed she laid upon was wide, with a frayed patchwork quilt and metal headboard, tarnished with age. Beneath the window was an old wooden trunk with a broken lock and on the wall to her left was a little stone fireplace, cold and unlit.

Wincing with stiff and sore muscles, she rose from the bed, noticing an antique, framed mirror in the corner at the foot of the bed. She was still naked, with nothing but her long black hair to cover her. She could see red welts criss-crossing her back; Davariel’s mark upon her flesh. The rigid wooden planks chilled the soles of her feet as she made her way to the dusty window.

There was a forest of tall blue pines, and a sparkling stream close to the cottage. Beyond that, she could see the sun peeping beneath a blanket of thick, dark clouds as it slipped behind snow-capped mountains. Soft mists danced like lonely ghosts along the ground, lending an aura of gloom. The tall trees swayed as the wind moaned and cried like a wounded animal. No other sound permeated the seemingly lifeless forest.

This was not Megdoluc. She’d seen visuals of the demon planet on her holographic image reproducer.

Where in Hades had the blond demon transported her to now?

A soft touch in her hair had her spinning back in alarm. Davariel stood behind her, his expression unreadable. Again, he was naked, adorned with nothing more than his tucked wings, loose hair that reached to his ass, and monstrous erection pointed at her like a molecular vaporizing canon.

Geez. Does that thing ever go down?

She felt bewildered she hadn’t sensed his approach. How the hell does he do that?

He reached out and took a strand of her hair, feeling its texture between his fingers. “Are you hungry?”

She clapped her hands over her mouth just as she was about to moan at the sound of his voice. Her lack of control was really beginning to annoy her. “I’d rather starve than accept anything from you,” she shot back, slapping his hand away.

He cocked his head to the side, a gesture he did often. “Silly girl, before dying of starvation you’ll be sacrificed.”

“Why, Davariel? What will you get out of destroying the universe?”

He shrugged, letting his hungry eyes travel over her.

“What happened to your black wings,” she demanded, trying to ignore the way her body tingled at his covetous perusal of her.

“I cut the damned things off. They gave me these.” The red wings opened up a bit as he wiggled them with a satisfied smile.

“The black ones were more beautiful,” she said, making him frown.

“The black ones marked me as a slave to what I was...a celibate holy warrior. I didn’t want to be celibate.” His voice dripped with distaste

“Beings were in awe of you.”

“They’re still in awe of me,” he retorted, eyes narrowing, as he tipped his pert nose up.

“No. They’re terrified of you.”

“Then that’s even better.”

Taking her hand as if they were the best of friends, he pulled her toward the door.
She yanked back her hand and crossed her arms over her bare breasts. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
He gripped her arms, but she began to struggle until he manuevered behind her, holding her still. “Shhh. It’s all right, my love.”

He pulled her up against the solid wall of his chest, his erection resting against the swell of her ass. As he caressed her breasts, his lean hips moved, rubbing against her. Davariel kissed her neck, nipped and licked, making her shudder.

“I’m sorry I had to fight you.” His voice was a dulcet caress against her ear.

He’s sorry?

He was making her melt again. “You’re only going to do worse later. Sacrifice, remember?” Good, Lord. Was that pathetic, pouty little feminine voice hers? And why couldn’t she stop wiggling her upturned ass against him. She didn’t care. He felt wonderful, smelled even better, like sea breeze, or fresh mountain air after rainfall, crisp, clean.

“I want to keep you...for myself. Maybe I can find another sacrifice,” he murmured against her neck. “Your scent, Luci.” He slid his nose along the side of her neck, giving her goose bumps. “It makes me feel strange emotions,” he sighed as one arm came around her, holding her tightly against him. He continued to rub himself against her. His other hand came up to grasp a handful of her hair, rubbing his face against it like a cat. “So soft. It spills through my fingers like water. I like you.” He sounded surprised.

“I like you too.” She reached behind and grabbed his firm ass. Oh-yum. Luciel squeezed, marveling at the baby-soft skin over tight muscle; so perfect for swatting. She bit her lips.

His laugh was a warm whisper against her neck, full of delight, giving her chills. “Such an eager, untouched little virgin.”

Untouched? She looked down at his hands cupping her pert breasts, hanging on for dear life. “I’m not so untouched.” She tried to sound knowledgeable.

Once more, the amused chuckle tickled her ear. “Your hands don’t count, my love.”

For a moment she felt heat suffuse her face. Did he know? Could he know he was the star of all her wet dreams? She gave him a teasing smile over her shoulder. “So if you’re going to keep me, then touch me. Take me, Davariel.” She felt his cock leap against her ass and pushed back harder against him.

He tangled his long fingers in her mane, pulling her head to give him access to her mouth. His lips sealed over hers, tongue thrusting in to savor and lick her mouth like succulent fruit. Luciel felt the wetness of her growing lust slick the juncture of her thighs. The throbbing between her legs grew more insistent, making her whimper when his fingers pulled her head back to separate their lips. She panted, staring helplessly at his dewy lips, swollen from the rough kiss

”So eager to bathe my cock with the blood of your innocence. Why should I appease you? You’ve been a naughty girl,” he said in a husky voice.

Had his fingers not been threaded through her hair and his other arm clamped around her waist, she would have fallen to her knees; her legs were shaking so bad. “Not,” she protested with a pout. “How have I been naughty?”

Luciel arched her neck farther back, wanting so much to have him devouring her mouth again. One corner of his luscious mouth quirked up as his eyes lower to her breasts. The hand gripping her waist slid up and cupped her breast. Luciel gasped, twisting in his hold as he pinched the nipple, the jolt of pain zinging to her throbbing clit and making her hiss in pleasure.

“You wanted to run me through with your blade when I gave you the option of running you through with mine.” He ground himself against her ass, letting her know which blade he meant. “And I even said pretty please.” Davariel clicked his tongue and shook his head, lifting one golden brow.

Luciel had never had a man penetrate her, only a brief session of heavy petting with one of the fledgling Master Guardians at the academy. They’d both been in training, young and curious about sex. The boy had been reluctant to push his cock into her and she really didn’t want to go all the way either, but now… the emptiness inside her demanded relief. She needed Dava’s cock piercing her, splitting her open, possessing her. “But I’m sorry now,” she whined, still squirming against him.



Her plumps lips were deep rose from his kisses, her nipples pebbled to tiny points. Luciel starred up at him, lashes swept low over lust darkened blue eyes. The scent of how wet her cunt was made his mouth water and prick ache. If only… how he longed to fill her… her mouth, her pussy, her ass.

“Convince me,” he murmured, fingers pinching her nipples to make her arch her breasts into his hands with a hungry little moan. “Tell me what you would have me do to you. Share your naughty thoughts about me, pretty girl.”

Her face grew a delightful shade of pink that extended down to her breasts. Ah, virgins. Davariel grinned. How he loved despoiling them.

But I can’t touch this one. Oh, fuck my life.

Davariel watched the tip of her pink tongue dart out and moisten her plump lips, her breathing becoming a little more agitated as well as his. “I...I always dream about us…” she hesitated, her blush becoming more pronounced.

Davariel bit his lower lip to stifle a groan. He was sure those dreams had plenty to do with vigorous fucking and thought it cute she felt embarrassed to say so. “Elaborate,” he drawled.

Luciel winced, her eyes going round as she worried the corner of her lower lip, her thighs shifting. No doubt, her cunt was twitching, eager for his cock. The thought made him ache more, press harder against the cleft of her upturned ass until his tortured flesh was clasped between her meaty globes. Would it count if he took her ass, or slid his shaft between her lips, her perky breasts?

“You always . . .” she interrupted his musings, took a shuddering breath and continued, “come to me, lick me till I just want to die of rapture and then you . . .” She closed her eyes and swallowed. Davariel held his breath, his heart pounding fiercely. “Fuck me...hard,” she finally whispered. Davariel closed his eyes and swallowed back a moan as the image she whispered about burned itself in his mind. Her sweet thighs wrapped around his waist, his cock buried deep, plunging, filling, throbbing within her wet heat. “I always wake up when I come because I scream your name.” She was torturing him, killing him with every word. His cock, nestled within the seam of her ass felt like its skin was about to burst from how swollen he felt. “My hand is always between my legs. I...I guess I masturbate in my sleep dreaming of you.” He couldn’t help the shudder that made him tremble. In response her body pressed tighter against his. “Dava, it aches,” she whispered.

Something in his chest tightened. “Then soothe it, my love,” he sighed. “Let me see you soothe the ache dreaming of me causes you.”

He turned her and set her on the wooden trunk. Placing his hands on her knees, Davariel opened her legs. Her deep rose pussy glistened, wet and open like an exotic flower. So-so pretty. She was tiny there and the desire to shove his tongue deep inside and lap up her cream had him tearing his gaze away to her eyes lest he fall into temptation.

Luciel’s cheeks could not have been pinker. He felt the tension in her legs, as if she wanted to slam them shut. Her eyes welled for a split second before her jet lashes lowered, shuttering her pale blue orbs. The shy virgin.

He didn’t want her timid. He wanted her wanton, sure of herself. “Look at me, Luci.” He released his pheromones. He couldn’t fuck her, but he’d revel in her pleasure.

To be continued...

Published 
Written by Levanahyll
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