Chapter ONE

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THE PRINCE OF ANGELS

The alarm sounded loud and clear, warning everybody in the palace. I hoped that this was the night. I had been visualizing it for a long time. Two years, to be more precise. It had been that long since it last rang.

For a moment, I thought that I was hearing things. Yet, the alarm kept ringing, warning about the existence of a rejected soul wandering the streets of Paris. My heart raced in my chest as I balled my hands in expectation. Maybe today was my lucky day.

I jogged from my library to the nearest balcony where I had a better view of the other side of the veil. Our dimension had a magical portal over Paris. My gargoyle's sharp senses enabled me to see further. Sometimes, it was challenging to distinguish anything as the city had too many lights.

Focusing my sight, I found it—the amazing and shining sparkle of a rejected soul. It gleamed intensely, and it was breathtaking. I couldn't recall ever thinking that a soul looked that enchanting before. It had a mixture of bright and serene colors, and it was captivating. Whoever that soul belonged to, that person had to be pure and good at heart.

My warriors had already transformed into gargoyles and were flying around the palace's towers. I heard pounding footsteps heading my way. They were waiting for me to give the order for them to go and get the soul. Still, I had no intention of letting them depart without me.

My breathing stopped, when the bright soul, which had been quiet and motionless in one place, suddenly began to move quickly as if something was dragging it away. I noticed as it began fading and flickering. Preoccupied, I jumped in the air, morphing into my gargoyle form in the process. I didn't wait for anyone else as I flew to the rescue.

I don't think I have ever flown that fast in my life. I sped up more when I understood what was going on—a girl was fighting against the currents in the Seine. The bastard who had rejected her had probably tried to kill her or she had jumped. It wouldn't be a first. Rejected souls tend to be suicidal. Yet, she was fighting to survive. I could hear her voice, begging for help. I could see her arms struggling, trying to keep her head above the surface as her mouth sucked in the air. As I pushed my wings to go faster, I was utterly spellbound by the celestial light that surrounded her.

Arriving at her location, I flew lower. Stretching my arms out, I grabbed her by her arms and made the effort to move up quickly, so I wouldn't drop her. Then I pulled her into my arms and secured her against my chest. She coughed against my shoulder. She had her eyes closed, unaware that she was safe because she kept praying and crying as she clutched my neck.

Thankfully, I had arrived before she drowned.

Moments later, I landed in a dim part of the city near a park. I needed her to calm down, so she could look into my eyes, but she didn't want to be apart from my embrace. She was shivering and rambling on in her native tongue. She was not French. This wasn't a problem as angels and gargoyles understood all languages across the world.

When her arms released my neck, and her feet touched the ground, I was able to see her tangled dark hair in front of her face and the soaked clothes glued to her fragile body. I brushed the tousled hair away from her pretty face while noticing her silky white skin, her doll face, and her pale, plump lips.

It had never occurred to me that I could crave so intensely to bond with a soul, even before looking into the girl's eyes and knowing if we were a match or not. But everything about her made me desire her., especially the bright and fantastic light surrounding her. She had the most beautiful soul I had ever seen. She would make a perfect queen. If only I could choose, I would want her. But I couldn't.

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