Salem’s eyes glassed over as an angered scream tore from his lips. The demon’s thoughts flooded as he took in the desert surroundings. He could remember everything that had happened with Scorpio, Zamora, and Gryphon.
Gryphon had taken Zamora away. Salem’s worst fear had come through. And now he would pay. The price for taking his angel away would be a brutal death by Salem’s hand.
Red eyes faded into dark ebony one’s. The demon’s entire eyes had bled to black as fury and anger coursed angrily through his veins. He had no idea where Zamora was, but he would search. He would search for her for eternity if he had to. And once he got his hands on Gryphon…
Black flames bending and swirled around Salem, mixing with the airborne sand. He was using an ability he hadn’t used in centuries. It would give him incredible speed, and strengthen his already heightened senses.
The hellfire inversed, now flowing back into his fingertips and through his body. In an instant, dark wings sprouted from Salem’s back. Rough, dragon-like wings with angularity.
The last edition to his transformation were his elongated canines, his sharp fangs. He looked every bit like the demon he was, only this time it showed on the outside, too.
The crimson-eyed demon soared up and into Haven’s darkening sky with two clear thoughts on his mind. Bring back his angel, and slaughter the demon who took her from him.
The smell of metal, stone, and dust overtook Zamora as Gryphon threw her in the dim, firelight cobble cell.
She was trapped in the small room, the only distinctive things around her were the cell’s bars and the tiny window. She couldn’t see the view, as it was now night.
“Why are you doing this? If you love me, why do this?” Pale orange hues casted and glowed over Gryphon’s hard features. The light reflected off his sharp cheekbones and dangerous steely eyes, leaving Zamora’s heart quaking.
“This is how I show it,” he said, a lewd smirk forming on his face. “You can’t escape now.” His hands then moved down to the twin whips hanging from his hips as a silent threat.
Zamora clenched her fists in fear and defeat as she backed into the hard wall. And then, Gryphon vanished.
The cell was rustic and old. Zamora sunk down onto the stony ground, breathing in the scent of rock and dirt. Her amber eyes clenched as visions of Salem took over her. Memories of them together, how Salem had fought to defend her, and every moment of them from the day they met to recency. It was crazy how much her simple life had suddenly flipped.
Her identity as Emma was gone. But then again, her identity as Julianne was gone. Who had she been in other life times?
And her adoptive parents. Although they were relatively cold, she still missed her mother’s bright blue eyes and feisty personality which was balanced by her father’s stoic one.
A single tear shed from her golden eye and caressed her olive cheek. All she wanted now was to be held by Salem, the raven-haired demon she’d fallen so hopelessly in love with. Nothing could compare to the safety she felt when held by Salem. Unconditional love and protection, two rare things that we pine for. No matter if you are an angel, a demon, or a human. True love was rare. It didn’t matter if the one who protected and cherished her was supposed to be the enemy. Demons were considered the epitome of evil and rightfully so. But nothing would keep them apart, no matter what happened Zamora would find Salem. And she knew deep down that Salem would find her too. That sliver of hope would keep her strong. She had to escape. Not only for her, but for him as well.
“Hello?” The sound of a husky female voice brought the angel out of her reverie. Zamora’s eyes darted to the cell parallel to hers.
Dim light gave little reveal to the girl now clutching the black bars of her own cell. Cerulean eyes widened at the sight of Zamora as the young woman brushed her blonde hair frantically from her face.
She looked to be around Zamora’s age, though that didn’t matter. Age was frozen in Haven, although the woman’s eyes appeared to give off some sort of coldness only gained with rough aging.
Zamora didn’t respond at first. The unnamed woman’s manic expression soon faded to one of shock once she saw Zamora fully. All that Zamora could make out from dim illumination was tattered white clothes and a beautiful fair face.
“Princess Zamora!” She cried. Zamora’s mouth gaped at the angelic woman. Her baby blue eyes were bright with some sort of sad hopefulness.
“Who are you?” Zamora spoke, slightly shaken from the formal entitlement. She forced her voice to be somewhat kind and gentle.
“I’ve been looking for you, searching to find a way to bring you back home. Now is our chance, we can go! Prince Michael can save you! He is here, Princess, he is here and he’ll take you back to your throne and everything will be alright.”
Zamora shook her head as she took in the sight of the distraught woman in front of her. Slowly, she took in what the blonde had said. Was everyone in Heaven rooting for her marriage with Michael? And it was impossible for Michael to save her- Gryphon was far too powerful. Zamora didn’t want to break this woman’s false sense of reality. So instead, she repeated her unanswered question.
“Who are you?” The woman tilted her head as a misplaced sweet smile formed on her pink lips.