Okay,
So I'm back, but didn't actually manage to write much while I was away =(
But!
I do have this, it's quite short, but I think it's alright.
Vote,
Comment!
Fan
like...
Blah, blah, blah you know the drill
p.s - the Angels name changed again. Its gone from patch to zach, to cole now its Damon. And I think thats sticking this time haha
Anyways. ENJOY!!
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Chapter five - part one
ANNABELLE FELT VERY QUEEZY AS SHE GOT TO HER FEET. THE PAIN IN HER back was no more than a lingering sting now, but the blood she could see - and feel, dripping from her face to the floor - made her stomach churn. If it had been anyone else's, Anna thought she would have been fine, it was the simple fact than it was her blood she was staring at, that didn't agree wither her. She wasn't even entirely sure how the stab wound, felt like nothing more than an angry bee's sting. But she didn't feel like working it out at this very moment.
Anna wiped her bloody hands across her legs, bright red hand prints stuck to her skin coloured tights like a painted pattern. The front of her dress hung forwards, it was a huge possibility that it would fall off completely. The dagger had cut through a large section of the black lace along her spine, then what was left of the back of her dress, her wings had torn through. Her pale skin seemed milky white against the vast blankets of black feathers that stretched from her shoulders, even paler than normal.
'She cannot have taken your husband from you, for you are not married, Marissa.' The Dark Angel's voice sent vibrating waves of energy around the room.
'Put me down, Damon,' Marissa hissed. Anna noticed then, that the Dark Angel - Damon - had his right hand curled around Marissa's neck, just like she had had her fingers curled around the dagger. Only, Anna didn't think that Damon was going to stop at just holding Marissa off of the floor.
'You stabbed Annabelle; you were trying to kill her. Explain to me, why I should let you continue breathing.' Anna stepped forward and looked into Damon eyes; she jumped back when he looked at her. They blazed red, brighter and more dangerous than before. Anna had only seen that looked once before, on her face. That look was in her eyes when she killed her so called father. It was the look of a killer.
'Damon?' Anna whispered, 'I'm alright, you don't have to kill her.' hesitantly she placed her small hand on the arm leading to Marissa's throat. His muscles were solid and taunt under his tanned skin, as Anna looked at his arm; she noticed the muscles jump as he moved his fingers, probably holding onto Marissa's throat tighter.
'Damon?' he didn't seem to be listening to her. 'Damon, are you in there?'
Touch his wings, that velvet voice whispered to her again. Touch his wings and feel his power. Damon is so lonely, so cold. Just touch him, warm him, Annabelle. Love him. Anna didn't know how or what knew her name, but if it made him listen, maybe she should just touch his wings?
Her hand slid up his arm across his smooth shoulder. Her fingers lingered on his collar bone, as her thumb gently brushed over his neck. You want to kiss him, the voice floated into her ears, do not kiss him yet, Annabelle. The time is not right. Touch his wings, Annabelle. Touch his wings! The voice became a high shriek at the end, almost desperately begging her to touch his feathers.
With a deep breath, Anna closer her eyes, and touched them. His wings were soft and silky, yet smooth and firm at the same time. Anna gasped, her eyes flew open. She tried to pull her fingers from his wings, but it was as if the feathers were holding on to her. Damon's power crawled up her arm, boiling her skin like a thousand insects. Her own wings ruffled in response. They curled towards Damon as his curled towards her.
The wings tips touched, tiny flames licked from the join. Damon's hand dropped away from Marissa's neck, so abruptly she landed in a heap on the floor. In one swift movement his arm snapped out and wrapped around Anna's waist. He pulled her body to his sharply making her stumble. Anna's hands rested on his naked chest to stop herself from falling down but she was too late. Her feet were off of the floor. Damon held her body so close to his own, Anna thought that that might have been the only reason the front of her dress was still on.
He pulled her across the floor, and with nowhere else to put her arms, she wrapped them around his neck. His wings folded around hers, tucking her own neatly against back.
Warm the Dark Angel, Annabelle. Wake him from his slumber. The voice fluttered into her ears, Fly with our angel! It shrieked, so loud Anna jumped. Damon nuzzled his head into the curve of her neck, as one of his hands rested on the small of her back, the other ran through her feathers lighting a thousand burning desires deep within her. Anna closed her eyes, the pleasure he was giving was overwhelming.
'Annabelle!' voices shouted. She didn't know who her name had come from, but there was panic in it that she couldn't understand.
'Anna!' she knew that voice, it was Jordan's, 'Anna, no!' his scream was lost to a sudden whooshing sound. Damon's arm tightened around her, pressing her so close to him she could feel his heartbeat through her skin. It sounded as if she was standing inside a hurricane.
'I have waited so long for you, my beautiful lady,' his breath made her spine shiver, 'So long, to taste you.' Damon bit down hard into Anna's neck, like a vampire would. She didn't scream or gasp or yelp, which surprised her. What surprised her more what the fact that there was no pain, just pleasure, and Anna moaned. She tangled her fingers in his hair, her eyes still closed as the winds rushed past her. She had no idea what was happening, where they were going, yet she didn't care. For some unknown reason, all Anna wanted to do was stay moulded to the Dark Angel's chest, while he drank from her.
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And there you have it..
I am working on the next bit, will be up ASAP
Oh, and this is for Sweety who likes Anna! haha
YOU ARE READING
Fragile Fury - (Glass Angels book one)
RomanceWhen her glass tears shatter, their blood will fall thick. The uprising is coming, and they will be ready for it. When her eighteenth birthday came around, Annabelle felt different. Stronger, faster . . . better. Her father had beaten her, touched...