The Demon of Angels (Bk. 2) | ✓

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SUNDAY.

A day that's supposed to be one of the highlights of your week. Sleeping in, wearing comfy clothes, homemade breakfast, watching T.V., and staying in bed all day like a lazy bum just because you can.

Unfortunately for me, that wasn't the case.

"Focus, Celeste!" Michael barked, his hands folded behind his back. Sweat poured down my forehead as my hands clenched at my sides. The five of us were all standing behind my house in the open field. We had been training since dawn.

"I'm trying!" I snapped back at the Archangel.

Michael had been trying to get me to master some techniques against demons using more of my celestial magic all morning. At first, he had tried to make me train with Zeke, but I had refused. Unfortunately for me and fortunately for her, Morgan wasn't here– a good thing for all of our sakes in the scheme of things– so that left Noah.

Grinding my teeth together, I spared a glance to Michael's left. Zeke's eyes met mine, and gave a slight nod. Taking a deep breath, I focused on the Hellhound in front of me.

Noah stood roughly twenty feet from me, shirtless and dripping in sweat. With my heightened vision, I could see the droplets of sweat slither down his chiseled abs and dip between the V at his naval, disappearing into the waistband of his black athletic shorts. His eyes were glowing blood red, and his forehead was lined in concentration.

Zeke growled, noticing where my attention was at. My gaze flickered over and fixated itself on Zeke. There was a deep scowl embedded in his features, and I smirked. Winking, I focused back on the task at hand.

My energy soared, pushing my celestial half forth, igniting the power within me. White hot orbs of sunlight materialized around my fists, sputtering like a rage of pure power. My eyes glowed as they locked onto the shifting form in front of me. A deep growl sputtered from my lips while Noah was mid-shift, his bones cracking.

He's already done this so many times today; who knew how much more he could take. Hellhounds couldn't shift so often in a day without proper rest and nutrition. The more they shifted, the longer it took to do so, and the more dangerous it was to them. Typically, I wouldn't care, but this was Noah.

Knowing it was now or never, I leaned my body forward and took off at a dead sprint. I didn't wait for Noah to finish shifting, even when he let out a whimper of torment. Michael wasn't going to stop pushing us until we got this right.

Thankfully, Noah managed to shift into his full hound form, raven black fur with four paws and all. However, he barely had a second to breathe before I was tackling his oversized pup to the ground.

Noah's jaws snapped at me as we rolled, barely nicking my skin when I wrapped my arms around his thick neck. My orbs shot sunlit bolts through him, sizzling his skin and burning his fur. Noah yelped, bucking me off of him. His hind legs shot out at the right moment, shoving me in the chest without an ounce of remorse.

I flew backward, tumbling to the ground with a few grunts and groans.

Ow.

Grinding my teeth together, I rose to my feet as heavy paws pounded against the open field. My orbs molded around my hands once more, pulsating with hot rays that began to travel the length of my arm as thunder clapped in the distance. The blue sky churned grey as my frustration grew. Clapping my hands together out in front of me, a thin white beam blasted forward and shot the oncoming hound in the chest.

Noah howled, tumbling back. He managed to land on all fours, growling as he lowered his snout to the ground. His short tail stood on end, his hackles raising as his burning crimson eyes locked on me as if I were his prey.