WARFIRE

Chapter 2

She woke up in a meadow. Only instead of lush green grass and flowers, scraggly black grass sprouted at her feet. She could feel the cold air nipping at her limbs, a stark contrast to the warmth given off by the pale sun. 

She looked around. There was nothing and no one in sight, just black grass extending for miles and miles under a bleak grey sky. Yet there was a beautiful harshness to the land around her and she shivered, feeling quite alone. 

"Beautiful, isn't it?" a silky voice said behind her. 

Amira spun around, sinking into a fighting stance. About ten feet away stood a man. A beautiful man.

Amira had never thought that the word "beautiful" could apply to a man. Sure, there were good-looking male angels in Heaven but never anyone that she would call beautiful. 

Yet standing in front of her stood someone that embodied that word. He was tall, at least six feet, with long limbs and a lean build. His hair was a shade of chestnut brown, curly and thick, begging for fingers to run through it. He had chiseled cheekbones and a strong jawline, lined with stubble. But most compelling were his eyes: golden and framed by long dark eyelashes, running over her body lazily. There was a feral nature to his eyes as if he was half animal. Yet the charming way he tilted his head made her think of tangled bedsheets and sleepless nights full of ecstasy. He was the personification of beauty. No, of sex. 

Amira sucked in a breath, giving herself a mental shake. What the hell was she thinking? There stood an unfamiliar and unknown being in front of her and all she could do was check him out? 

"Who are you?"  she asked, holding her ground. He had no wings which must have meant that he was a human. 

He came closer and Amira tensed. This far away, she could smell his scent--a hint of spice and sandalwood. She fought the urge to close her eyes. God, he was potent. Were all humans like him? Amira had never seen a human before but if this was how beautiful they looked, they were dangerous. 

"The better question is: who are you? And what are you doing in my dream?"  he purred. 

Amira's eyes widened. This was a dream? And she was in his dream? Was this all just in her head then? Her instinct, which had never been wrong, told her no. This person was real and somehow they were in each other's dreams. 

"No one has been able to enter my dreams without my permission in centuries. Who are you?" he questioned, his voice sharpening. 

For centuries? If he was telling the truth, he couldn't be a human. She was dealing with a very old being. Much older than her seventy years. Then who the hell was he? 

"I've never seen an angel like you," he murmured, his eyes glued on her wings. "Your wings. They're black."  Fascination shone on his face as he stared at her wings. Fascination...and longing? She had the sudden urge to offer him to touch her wings before she mentally slapped herself. What the hell was she thinking? 

Oblivious to her inner struggle, the man's eyes tracked over her face. "Your eyes are brown," he said, surprise coloring his tone. "But your wings are black. Who are you? Are you a demon?" 

Amira recoiled. She was nothing like the hideous beasts. That didn't stop angels from calling her and the other La'ziel demons and it apparently it didn't stop the stranger in front of her. 

 "I am not a demon. This conversation is finished," she hissed. She spun around only to realize that she had no idea how to get out of the dream. The stranger watched her, amusement dancing in his eyes.