The Angel Prophecy (original)

38) angsty, rebellious twat

Eliya:

Some of the seven stood at the edge of the courtyard. They appeared to be relaxed, standing in a small huddle, but with the way their eyes trained on me and their weapons on display, I knew they were anything but.

I fought the urge to cry. Their display confirmed nothing but their distrust in me. I felt like I was going insane.

"I-I know you are probably disappointed in me." I started, "I failed at getting the moonstone, and Silas is waiting for me just outside the gates.... and I'm a pathetic excuse for the savior I'm supposed to be, but I have never and will never be on his side. He-He's not here to take over Hell like you think, He—"

I was interrupted. Azazel was stalking towards me, taking hurried but gentle steps, and suddenly his lips were on mine in a delicious searing passion.

"That's it, love." He whispered against my mouth, "Keep fighting against him, kick him out of your head."

He pressed our lips together again, his hands crandling my face, his mouth littering soft, gentle kisses upon mine. I couldn't think, I was too distracted by the warmth wrapping around my drowning heart. My hands developed a mind of their own and nestled themselves into his soft locks of hair.

He imprinted me with one last soul-shattering kiss before pulling away. His thumbs brushed away the tears that had fallen from my eyes. He smiled, "You are not a failure, Ellie."

My heart melted. And this time the tears really did fall. "I hate when he does this. I'm never strong enough to push him out. My head hurts from trying." I tucked my head into his chest. "I don't know what's happening to me, I don't usually cry."

"I'm glad you are." He soothes, running his hand through my long hair. "Crying is healthy, especially since you've been bottling up everything that's happened to you. Just let it out."

"You're being awfully nice, Your Majesty." I joked, referencing the menacing crown currently decorating his dark head of hair.

He snorted, "What so I'm not normally nice? I think I've been very kind to you since we met."

"You have.... if you forget that you killed my father, kidnapped me, tied me in chains and threatened to let Satan torture me, and were just down right rude to me during the first few weeks we knew eachother." I smiled up at him.

"Obviously." He replies with a sarcastic roll of his eyes.

Someone deliberately cleared their throat behind us. Azazel's eyes cut to the culprit, hardening. "Right. Let's go inside."

He led us through his maze of a castle. The walls were made of a slick black stone that sparkled in the light of the eternal torches illuminating the halls. The castle was bare of decoration, much like his apartment, with only suits of armor placed strategically down each hall. I wouldn't be suprised if they were enchanted to come to life and fight any intruders.

I was very aware of the King of the Underworld's hand gripping mine. It's constant warmth a sort of reassurance for my mind. Still I was back to how I felt walking through the gated courtyard moments ago, like his kind words and kisses meant nothing.

I was still under the enemy's control, and I was afraid.

I could feel Silas' presence in my mind, no doubt staying there to ensure my alliance to him. Its like my head is split in two, one side wanting to follow his orders and the other wanting to help my mate.