Enrapture | The Angels Series Book 2 | Slow Updates

Prologue

Three months had passed on Earth, though it had been little more than a day and a half for him. Michael continued to wander through the deserted areas of Hell, hoping desperately that he would run into some horrible creature that could end it all for him. 

He scoffed. 

All that would do is send him back to the very place he avoided now. How could he face Uriel after what took place? He had acted on a whim and betrayed Gabriel - just when their friendship had been on the path to restoration. He destroyed any chance of that happening when he drove the blade of his general's sword through the Hell angel's back. 

He was many things and he knew that, but he had never been a backstabber. There was a sort of decency that came with fighting one's enemies head-on. He had taken the coward's way out. He had attacked out of rage and when she had been vulnerable. 

On some level, he knew he didn't stand a chance in a fair fight against her. She would have destroyed him with little to no effort on her part. Now he had a worse problem on his hands. 

Uriel.

The Seraphim was sure to be furious that he had failed, and he would certainly be livid that he had run away. Without renouncing his duty, he would be considered AWOL. He was a general for Christ's sake! What had he been thinking? It was far too late now. The deed was done. 

At the very least he could find solace in the fact that Amoura had survived in the end. He hoped that luck would be on their side and that Uriel would let them be. He had watched from a distance in utter disbelief as the girl reversed all the damage she had done. 

It had been incredible. 

He could see why Gabriel was fascinated with her. He could also see why Heaven thought her to be a threat. 

In any case, the worst had passed. 

He had his own hardships up ahead. Of that, he was sure. 

He kicked at the black sands beneath his boots when he caught a powerful signature on the edge of his senses. Looking ahead, he saw only endless desert and black mountains. As he continued on, the signature grew stronger. 

He could feel it clearly now and it put him on edge. 

Instinctively he went for the scabbard around his waist, quickly realizing his sword was not in place. A flashing image of the bloodied sword hurtling to the ground flitted across his mind. 

Shit.