Broken Wings Of Mine (BoyXBoy)
- Reads 137
- Votes 7
- Parts 9
MatureOngoing47m
Last published Tue, May 8, 2018
Two years. It has been two years since he has clipped my flight feathers on my wings. I have lost the only thing that I had left of my family. Before they died. I was the last angel in my family. Or we were nephilum. I was the first one with wings.
He says to me that he loves me. The flying was what connected me with my family. Bit I'm different from the rest of the nephilum. When I die...no matter what good I do...I'm going to hell. You see I'm not the son of just any angel. I'm the son of Lucifer. The most beautiful. And when my time comes my mate will be there and we will rule hell along side each other. I am Ash (short for Ashton. Named after the embers of the fires of hell.) And I am the son of the devil. Am destined for hell. And I will do this with my mate and the broken wings that he gave me. The broken wings that drove me down to hell. I will do this with.... The Broken Wings of Mine.
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BOOK TWO: PRINCES OF HELL LUCIFER: PRINCE OF PRIDE The air crackled with heat, thick with the scent of brimstone and something darker-something that carried his name. Dain shivered, his breath shallow as Lucifer's fingers traced his jaw, slow and possessive, his golden eyes burning with something deeper than hunger. "You think you can summon me, bind me to your will, and walk away?" Lucifer's voice was silk laced with fire, a whisper that seared straight to Dain's soul. "Foolish, beautiful thing... I have watched you long before you spoke my name into the void. You are mine, and I do not let go." Dain tried to step back, but the space between them collapsed as Lucifer's wings unfurled, dark as the abyss itself, trapping him in a prison of shadows and heat. A clawed finger traced the pulse at Dain's throat. "You don't even understand, do you?" Lucifer murmured, almost tender, pressing his lips to Dain's ear. "This is not a claim of flesh-it is a claim of eternity. You belong to me, and I will carve my name into your very soul so even death cannot take you from me." Then, with a touch both searing and intoxicating, Lucifer's mark burned itself into Dain's skin-a sigil of dominion, of possession, of love twisted into something inescapable. Dain gasped, pain and pleasure entwined as Lucifer pulled him closer, his voice a whispered promise: "Even if heaven calls you, even if you beg to be free... you will always find your way back to me."
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