The Demon of Angels (Bk. 2) | ✓

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FAMILIAR AND FOREIGN voices stirred me from the darkness that continuously found its relentless ways to pull me under. I winced against a soft pounding against my skull, squeezing my eyes shut as consciousness slowly came back to me.

"Is she going to be okay?"

"She needs to wake up."

"I can't believe he found us so soon."

"I never want to hear her scream like that again."

My eyes fluttered open, and I slowly started to look around me. Everyone was watching me, including an individual I had never met before. There was an unearthly glow radiating from his skin. Wearing a bright blue polo shirt and khaki pants, he sat at the end of the couch I was currently lying on, smiling down at me with an emotion I couldn't quite comprehend. His bright blue eyes reminded me of Michael, while his hair was much darker yet still had a strange bright tint to it. It reminded me much of my own hair.

I sat up and then cried out as pain shot through my stomach, bile rising in my throat. I lifted my shirt up and cringed at the large dark bruise covering the entire length of my abdomen. Looking closer, bruises were spotted all over my body. Scabs layered over my arms and skin where the cracks of power had previously been when I had lost control.

The man at the end of the couch rushed over to me, grabbed my arms, then closed his eyes. I watched in silence, too stunned to do anything as soft tendrils of heat seeped through my pores. Slowly, the bruise on my abdomen started to fade, several bones snapped into place, and the scabs healed over and disappeared completely. I found it easier to breathe as the pain faded and the man opened his eyes. He had just healed me.

I felt the dizziness and nausea fade away as well, and after another moment, my body felt normal. The man locked his eyes with mine, my face feeling stiff from all the tears that I had shed. I reached up and rubbed my eyes. He smiled warmly down at me, and I felt a hint of recognition, but I couldn't place it.

"How are you feeling?" He asked. His voice was soft and smooth, basking me in comfort and safety.

"Better," was all I said. The fact that I was still alive baffled me. I should have died along with my mate back in that cabin. As if reading my thoughts, the man tried to suppress a grin and then stepped away. The man's similarity to Michael was uncanny.

I looked behind him to see Maddie standing beside Evan with Hannah. Bragden and Charlie stood behind the couch, watching me with interest. Axel was nowhere in sight, and Hardin stood next to Noah and Morgan. Noah was standing behind the strange man, his eyes continuously looking to his right and then back at me several times over.

I followed his gaze, and my eyes connected with a familiar pair of stormy grey eyes. I gasped when I saw him sitting in the chair at the end of the couch, watching me like the others. I jumped off the couch and stared at him, stunned with my mouth hanging open. I took a couple of steps backward and started shaking my head.

Impossible.

I could feel the tears start to well up in my eyes again. He slowly stood and walked over to me. I covered my mouth with both of my hands, not caring about the dried blood still covering them. Tears cascaded down my cheeks once again, streaking through the blood.

No one said a single thing, and no words were spoken for a few moments as we stared at each other.

"How?" I finally managed to choke out when he stopped in front of me. "You died. Your heart stopped beating; you were gone." I started sobbing again. "You left me."

He reached out and pulled me against his chest tightly, gentle as if he was afraid I'd break beneath his grasp. "You healed me," he whispered. I started shaking my head. This wasn't real. I was experiencing another one of death's twisted visions. Zeke died. He was gone. "You healed me, Celeste," he echoed, cupping my face in his hands with such gentleness that it nearly broke me.