The Fallen Angel

Chapter 34: Azrael

Chapter 34: Azrael

I felt like a prisoner.

Actually, forget that. I didn't think that word could fully encompass the person that these people have made me into.

Locked in a room because of their suspicions, I was forced to stare at old paintings and fondle a quaint teapot. Everything around me was beautiful, yet for some reason at the same time they weren't. Things were made worse because I was hyper aware of how out of place I was being here in the first place.

The group of celestial beings and a few guards had ushered me here after the disaster that took place in their meeting.

I was worried about Genie. They never took her with me. She was carried somewhere else—still unconscious and vulnerable. Despite the fact that I had yelled and begged them to let her at least stay with me, all the woman named Larissa kept repeating was, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." My heart was torn between the sincerity of her words and the cruelty of her actions. I knew it wasn't all her fault. She was just following orders. For some reason though, being faced with that felt like amnesiac betrayal.

It was clear she had known me—the old version of me—and we had been close. That much could be gathered by her emotional reaction to my sudden appearance. It was more evident with how she was the only one protective of me during the time Mikael and that vicious old man, Damon, were out to get me for whatever reasons.

If I had thought my world was flipped upside down from the moment I had met Angelo in that nightclub, I was wrong.

Everything got more complicated from here on out.

As I heard the lock to the door rattle open with keys, I came to the conclusion that this was only the beginning of a new chapter in my life. One that was filled with secrets which were darker and more insidious than I could have ever imagined.

I dropped my defensive stance the moment that I saw it was Azrael; the only angel in the room that seemed to be unbiased to my presence.

I watched him suspiciously as he came in with a tray of food and placed it on the nightstand.

He stared at me as I stayed at a distance. I bet I looked like a child that was scared to anger her parent. It wasn't too far-fetched with the scolding expression that overcame his face for a split second before it dissipated with a sigh.

"I'm not going to harm you. You can be at ease."

"I don't know you, so how can I be sure of that?" I asked carefully.

His golden brown eyes followed my every move as I took another step away.

He held up his hands in surrender. "You're right. I'm sorry. It's kind of hard to shake the feeling of you being scared of me. Usually you're screaming in my face whilst trying to pull my hair out."

"Me?"

"Elisabetta," he griped as my question seemed to snap him back to reality.

I'm not her.

Due to that fact, he had become reclusive again.

He cleared his throat, probably conscious of how harsh he sounded. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I don't take offense. You're right about what you said. She's the one that you know. Not me."

His lips pursed.

"So I wished you guys could apply that to the situation and let me and my friend go." I continued slyly.

His face scrunched up.