The Angel Prophecy (original)

24) 600 yeArs ago

Elizabeth:

I breathed a sigh of relief as I felt the ground resolidify beneath my feet and the nauseating sensation of time travel faded away. The ringing in my ears slowly disappearing as the sounds of my surroundings took its place. A band was playing, some sort of instrumental swing music. I adjusted my eyes to the brilliant candle light. There were thousands of them, hanging from the ceiling in chandeliers and decorating the walls in sconces.

I was in a castle somewhere in medieval Europe.

The dress I'd spent so much time on matched perfectly with the swishing dresses of the women on the dance floor. The werewolf women on the dancefloor. I thought as I inhaled a deep breath. I was in a werewolf castle, as if being in a normal castle wasn't bad enough. One slip up and the werewolf king, who I could clearly see from my hiding place, would be alerted of my presence.

The king was sitting in his throne next to his mate and a young boy, who I assumed was the prince. But it wasn't them that had caught my attention. No, it was a certain brown-haired angel standing in front of them with his head bowed.

"Thank you for inviting me to your celebration, your majesty." I heard him say, his voice deep and mysterious. "It is an honor to perform for you and your kingdom tonight."

"You are always welcome here, Lucifer. You have saved this kingdom a great deal of suffering." The king replied with a powerful, yet calm voice.

Before he could respond, a voice rang out from the stage, announcing that it was time for Lucifer's performance.

"I guess that's my cue." Azazel said amuzedly to the king, bowing once more and making his way up to the stage. I half expected Apollo to show up, but he never did. And then my mate began to sing, strong and true.

"...When marimba rythms start to play..."

It was like I was hearing him sing for the first time all over again... except in a formal setting. This time there was something undeniably feral about him. Simmering just beneath his fancy fitted suit. I could see it in his eyes, they way they flitted darkly across the room, staring into everyone's souls as if he couldn't wait to add them to his collection. His stare even caught with mine for a half second right as his song ended. He gave me an evil smirk, rattling me to my core, and disappeared into the crowd.

For the rest of the party I couldn't shake the feeling of eyes on me. Although everytime I turned too look, no one was there.

I was standing off to the side with a glass of red wine I was pretending to sip from. I would awkwardly mingle with the werewolves when they attempted to make conversation with me, but they didn't stay to chat for long. I was by myself, watching them dance and wondering where Azazel had disappeared to, when I felt a calloused hand clasp over my mouth and drag me down an empty corridor.

"Why have you masked your scent." The man's rough voice growled as he threw me into a dark room. "Are you an assassin? A demon? Spit it out."

I remained quiet, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. He was a palace guard. Fuck.

"Speak!"

I have to get out of here. I thought, frantically looking around the room for any sort of exit, but the only way out was the door we had come through. The door he was blocking.

He pulled me up to my feet, stalking around me in tight circles.

"Well, if you will not speak, let me tell you what happens to wenches like you in this kingdom." He growls, his eyes gleaming yellow in the dark. But before he could continue the door slammed open.