He's the 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝 knight.
She's the 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥.
***
BOOK 1 | CELESTIAL FLAMES SAGA
⚜️ PLOT ⚜️
Tormented by his curse, 𝐑𝐀𝐎𝐑, a Changeling raised among the Unseelie Fairies, hunts Demons. The world he lives in, Draiganteor, is populated by al...
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I'M FOSSILIZED INbed under autumn-patterned quilts, and it's like having my head encased in a ball of the hardest stone. I haven't dared to move my eyes so far - red and sore - nor have I shifted from the first position I found, sinking into a sleep that has presented the bill for the great stress I've been under. A short sleep, of a few hours: I returned at dawn, and the tyrant sun soon greeted the windows.
If I open my eyes, I'll see white clouds, not red; serene clouds anchored to the sky, not torn by lightning and the wings of the Fallen Demons.
Someone is pulling me from Morpheus' arms, calling me, I hear them a bit agitated. Do they have a great desire to meet a terrible end at my hands? I want to sleep, eliminate the memories and images imprinted hot in my mind, so I need proper rest. The person in question doesn't share the same opinion.
"Raor, damn it! You stink to high heaven! Did you roll in cow dung last night?"
I respond with a grunt. I clench a fist, move, and discover an almost frustrating soreness. Legs paralyzed from the hellish journey, an empty and growling stomach, a back in pieces.
"Is that Asmeidur?" the person asks, astonished.
Lifting my eyelids is the hardest task of my life; my sword is tilted on the edge of the nightstand occupied by bottles of fairy milk.
