Fallen Angel

Chapter 30.1

The Angel of Death took Margaret to a rickety cottage in the middle of a forest, where he blindfolded and bound her before moving her again. Wherever she was now, it felt warm, and the soft velvet seat was comfortable. She decided not to panic just yet. It didn't seem like Samael meant to hurt her. If that was his intent, he would've done so already. Not to mention, there were worse places he could've taken her.

"You foolish boy!" Margaret stiffened when she suddenly heard an angry male voice nearby. "What in God's name were you thinking? Kidnapping her from the Vale, bringing her here, of all places?"

"I couldn't leave her with those bastards one minute longer!"

Samael! And that other voice... I know that voice.

"Besides," continued Samael, "Gabriël already knew I had something to do with Michael's disappearance; he's not an idiot. They've never trusted me up there. And now we have a decent midwife for the Fallen Angel, so stop pretending my actions don't benefit us."

Midwife for the — oh dear God, Joan!

Margaret heard the door open and footfalls entering the room. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. Someone came closer, but she didn't know who it was. Not until she felt a hand against her cheek, gently caressing her.

"Ssh, it's all right. You don't have to be afraid," Samael spoke softly. "No one will harm you."

"Samael, please. Why did you take me away? What have you done to Michael? And Joan, where is Joan?"

"I will explain everything, I promise. But there's someone you need to meet first."

Samael untied Margaret. Her hands immediately went to lower the blindfold, and she looked straight at the Angel of Death. He gave her a warm smile and nodded encouragingly. Margaret's eyes then fell on the other man, whose voice had sounded so familiar. Her breath caught.
He was so very handsome. Raven-black hair to his shoulders, dark, intense eyes, fair features, and strong cheekbones. His black clothes made him look like a king or an emperor and fit him perfectly, accentuating his muscles. 
The man held back. Margaret noticed his expression. That gaze, filled with a certain yearning... It was the look someone might give a long-lost love.

"I... I know you, don't I?" She hesitantly stepped forward.

"Yes... From long ago. Samael... please leave us."

"What? No!" exclaimed Samael.

"I will not ask again." The man gave him a sharp glare.

Samael threw a pleading look at Margaret, but her sole focus was on the black-haired man. Getting no response from her, the Angel of Death eventually walked out the door, angrily slamming it shut behind him.
Margaret carefully closed the distance between her and the man. She raised her hand to caress his cheek. He gasped and flinched at her touch, but didn't draw away from her. Gradually, the tension left his shoulders. Margaret took in every single facet of his fair face. She knew him; she was sure of it. And his name was...

"Morning Star."

He gripped her wrist at the mention of the name. His eyes stood wide in shock.

"What did you say?" he asked, his voice low in a haunting whisper.

"I... Forgive me, I just... I don't remember everything from my past, but I believe you were there, and I called you —"

"Morning Star. You called me your Morning Star." He smiled weakly at her. "I haven't heard that name in such a long time. I go by many names now, but none as flattering as that one. It's good to hear it again. Especially from your lips, my darling."