Enrapture | The Angels Series Book 2 | Slow Updates

Chapter Three

She watched him as he slept. He looked so peaceful, so beautiful. His face was even more handsome when it wasn’t set into a scowl. There was so much pain behind his golden eyes, and now that they were closed she could almost fool herself into thinking he had none.

She had sensed his doubt when she told him she was a shaman. Of course, someone as old and powerful as he wouldn’t be fooled for long. But did he know the truth of her kind? She knew she could simply open the doors of her mind and let all the world’s knowledge fill and complete her, but she chose not to live that way. As someone who’d been hiding for most of her life, she felt that privacy should be respected.

But still, she was curious about the Great Saint Michael. And given their intertwined destinies…

Just a peak, she told herself, resting her palm on his handsome face. She took a moment to study his beauty. Such noble features. The edges of his face were sharp and defined. His lips were enticing – full and perfectly-shaped. His brows furrowed a bit as he dreamed and she smoothed them with her finger tips. He relaxed again and she smiled. He responded to her touch so instantaneously. Even in slumber.

She leaned over him, brushing the loose strands of his yellow hair away from his face so that she could bring her lips level to his. She breathed him in, taking in his heavenly scent. Did all angels smell this good? Her heart thudded in her chest as she pressed herself against him.

Just a peak…

Her lips descended on his and immediately the veil of wisdom dropped over her eyes – the white film obscuring her irises. Her mind filled with the vision of his past. He had always been so strong, so true to his duty. She stood quietly in the shadows and watched as recent events unfolded before her.

Michael stood in the alleyway with Lucifer’s restraints held tightly in his hand. The Devil remained quiet, watching as the mortals in the street screamed and scattered. A dark smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Michael stood, watching the skies as Gabriel battled with the Hell’s angel; the woman he loved. Amoura.

Michael seemed uncertain – wanting to aid his friend yet remaining rooted to the ground. His eyes suddenly glassed over and it was clear he had received communication from Heaven. He appeared troubled.

She stepped from the shadows and approached Michael, touching his forehead so as to listen to the commands he was given.

She had heard them before, when they played out in real-time, but hearing them again still left her feeling uneasy. It was the command that had driven Michael to do what she knew he was about to do next.

Looking back up to the skies, she noticed at the same time as he that Gabriel and Amoura were wrapped in one another’s arms. Their lips were locked in a passionate kiss. Rage filled the air around her and she dragged her gaze back to Michael. Looking up, she could see the faintest hint of a silver light coming down from the heavens. She tasted Uriel in the air.

Bastard.

He had filled Michael with rage, knowing that he was unsure whether or not to carry out his earlier command. He had been manipulated.

Her attention returned to Saint Michael when she heard him call for Raphael, handing him Lucifer’s restraints and taking off for the skies.

Though she could not fly – at least, not in her current form – she could follow the subject of her focus anywhere he went. She felt a rush as she floated alongside him, circling below the two lovers that were otherwise engaged. Michael beat his powerful golden wings and rose behind the Hell’s angel.