𝕋𝖍𝖊 ℚ𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓
₳𝖗𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖓
With a flare of power and the stirring of wings, the angel appeared in my penthouse. I remained sprawled on the bed, still except for the narrowing of my eyes and the corner of my mouth, which pulled up.
The intruder had used modern media as the inspiration for her human form, manifesting long blonde curls and striking green eyes. Her curves were improbable, and she either didn’t know that humans had pores or didn’t care.
She smoothed out invisible wrinkles in her ivory dress and folded her hands in front of her, her image of composed elegance slipping as her fingers paled.
I waited as she regarded my naked male form. My silver hair was long, complementing golden eyes and sharp cheekbones. I didn’t steal inspiration from humans; I was Muse.
Her eyes tracked across smooth skin and defined muscle to where my hips met a draped sheet. Then her gaze shifted and locked onto the beautiful human who slept with his head resting on my biceps and her brow furrowed.
A breath of wrath awoke within me. I guided his head to a pillow, compelling him to remain in slumber. I withdrew from the bed and advanced towards the angel, each step silent and unhurried.
Adrenaline flooded her new body, her chosen shade of green eyes drowning in black. The force of her heartbeat reverberated through her dress. Her hand twitched as if to summon celestial fire before her body took a step back. “Seraphim Archon, I have a decree,” she stammered before raising her chin. “Archangel Aurelian, Commander of the Host, commands you to investigate the recent activities of the demon Astaroth. Take immediate action if Hell has reneged on the treaty with Heaven.”
A sealed scroll appeared floating in the air between us, and I vanished it with a dismissive wave of my hand as I stepped further into her space.
She tilted her head up and continued with less authority. “You are Lord Aurelian’s most trusted lieutenant, and he has verbally instructed that you return to Heaven. He stated his concern that this prolonged diversion of remaining in mortal form may be...” Her eyes locked on the floor.
“May —” I grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at me. “—be what?” Each soft word carried a density that reminded her she was subject to gravity now.
Her entire body shook. “Corrupting, corrupting you.”
“Humans have delightful instincts regarding unwelcome messengers...”
My hand moved down to her throat, unerring pressure depriving her of oxygen. Her knees buckled, but she didn’t flail as I held her suspended. She was a lesser angel; it could take her a century to gather enough power to manifest again. Destroying this body wouldn’t harm her angelic being, not unless I wanted to put in effort.
Her lips formed soundless syllables. I raised an eyebrow but loosened my grip a shade.
She lifted herself onto tiptoes. “Please—” she rasped, “—it’s my first time here.”
I huffed a sharp breath, the closest I had come to a laugh in centuries. I slid my hand to the back of her neck, claws extending into flesh as I pulled her close.
“First time feeling pain, little one?” I raised my other hand and ran a finger down her bottom lip, collecting a bead of red on a claw tip and placing it in my mouth.
Blood was power, and a single drop was enough to get an understanding of her nature and her potential. My hair caressed her shoulder as I leaned close. “And you want to stay?”
“That’s right.”
I gifted her a smile and ran a finger over her bottom lip. “Did I taste a whisper of malice?” Holding her still, I kissed her open lips, feeling her body respond to mine.
I released her, and she collapsed to the floor in a sprawl of limbs, her body’s hormones and chemical reactions overwhelming her.
She didn’t abandon the body.
“Impressive. When forced to visit the mortal realm, our kind usually discard their human form like distasteful trash once their task is complete.”
Beings of pure spirit didn’t care to withstand the confusing merging of emotion, will, and body.
For good reason.
A millennium. That’s how long I’d endured, since the day I’d awoken, drowning in something I’d never felt before.
Anguish.
An unwarranted emotion, but etched into my being, nonetheless, along with a single word carved into the skin of my arm.
‘Question.’
The script was mine, but not the memory of carving the rune. Seraphim did not lose memories.
I left the angel to collect herself and strode out to the balcony where humanity’s lights drowned out the stars.
Question what? Question my allegiance, my past, my sanity? I could abandon this scarred body. The terrible emotion wouldn’t be as devastating without the biological element.
But I would lose the rune, the message I’d tried to give myself. Without my angelic form at his side, Aurelian was too well balanced by Lucifer. Open war would force me from this skin.
I turned to the little angel who had settled onto her knees. “Stay in this apartment until I find a use for you; this form should eat and drink every so often, do not forget.”
I walked over to stand over the sleeping human in my bed. “That look you gave my companion, it wasn’t judgment, was it?”
Her cheeks burned red in response.
I brushed a strand of loose hair off his forehead and placed my hand on his side, healing a claw mark. Not kindness, he would prefer a scar to remember me, and I couldn’t even give him that. “Fine, I’ve finished with him.”
I had tried to fill the hole in my chest for a millennium; it was unfair to have hoped that a human could fill it. “You’ll be kinder to him than I’m capable of.”
I dressed and returned to find the little angel peering into the refrigerator. She spun at the sound of my voice. “Your name?”
“Zaeriel.”
“Zaeriel.” I purred. “You belong to me now. My people enjoy my protection and my expectations.” My angelic shadow stretched, cloaking the room in the night sky.
“However, if you betray me to angels or demons. I will unravel your celestial essence thread by thread until the only thing this universe remembers about you is your screams. Understood?”
Her body froze, spirit barely remaining contained in her new flesh. A long moment passed before her heart restarted, and she bowed her head. “My Lord.”
I smiled as I walked away, stepping off the balcony with a flare of power and the stirring of wings.
