House Of Legions (The Angel Descendants book 1)

Chapter 36 (Clare)

Clare entered the room, her vision taking time to adjust to the darkness. Narrowing her gaze to the only thing she could make out, a king-size bed, which she could barely see as it was, besides its shape.

Everything else was camouflaged in darkness, the curtains that draped the windows sealed, she couldn’t see anything else.

Annoyed,

She tried looking for the light switch by the door. Searching the walls with her fingers. The walls felt SMOOTH under her fingertips, unlike the cold marble they had in the bathroom.

No switch.

She was so tired, her eyes burned from exhaustion. The shower helped but not much in freshening her up, as she hoped it would. Instead, it reminded her of how she just wanted the day to end.

She drank the bathroom water from the taps in desperation for some long-needed rehydration. It was delicious. It wasn’t magical like she’d hoped, it didn’t cure the hunger pangs or the heartburn from the emptiness in her belly. And it definitely didn’t ease the constant cramps she had to endure until the moon ceremony was completed.

Nathan said that he’d prepare her something to eat. All she wanted to do now, looking at the bed, was get into it, relax her aching feet from all that walking in the forest and maybe have a nap. While she laid on her stomach and forgot this day ever happened. Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

Clare was still yet to recover from her flight and the morning at the church. She had almost forgotten about that. Everything which happened from the time she’d seen Nathan, seemed so long ago, but not her mother, not her death. That would always be something too sudden, too fresh, something that

altered Clare’s life in so many ways. The moment it happened, it marked her heart with an obsidian marker that would continue to leave its scar every day, in the future.

The towel cinched snuggly around her body, she rubbed at her burning eyes, succumbing to her desire. Clare threw herself on the bed without wasting a single thought. Expecting a soft drop, she squealed in pain and surprise as her body hit a hard surface. The pain shot right up her back as she let out a string of curses, and yelled, “GOD dammit.”

At first, her mind boggled with the idea of how tired she really was AND the bed she imagined was not really there. OR maybe she missed it.

Her fingers wandered around, to confirm her accuracy. She felt a hard lumpy thing. Fingers spread out she touched on something soft and cushy. Nonetheless, there was something hard on the bed, directly beneath her. She touched it with her hands, FLESH, “Shit.” It was another person under the sheets, and the victim's touch was blistering hot, which meant only one thing,

She jumped off quickly. Her towel falling off, she grabbed the soft cloth and straightened it as fast as her life depended on it. Tightening the towel as tight as she could whilst her hand stung and burned from the heat of his skin.

A deep growling voice yelled from under the sheet, “This better be good.”

The guy clapped his hands and the curtains opened and lights went on, brightening the room, “What are you doing in my room?”

She stood up straighter, her face flushed with embarrassment at the sight of him. His sun blazed eyes and furrowed eyebrows taking her in, with lustful heat, but there was something in the way he stared her down, something that made her take a step back. He did not look happy, scratch that, he looked pissed.

She muttered, “Kalbreal,”

She hadn’t seen him since the afternoon. Her mind puzzled about what to say, how to say it. He was an Angel, she didn’t know what powers Angels had, but looking into his orange and red sunrise eyes she couldn’t see anything Angelic about him. He was more like a bad boy, a satanic worshipper with all his piercings on his ears, gothic eyes, and hard firm lips.

She stumbled into her words, “I...I’m ss..sorry, Nathan said I should change here, blame him.”

She stood frozen to her spot watching him stand up. He wore only silk cotton black boxer shorts that hanged dangerously low on his abdomen, revealing a bit too much of his stomach, and what belonged underneath.

He had no happy trail like most men, his body was hairless, even his arms, and legs. Wow, his legs were toned, and muscular, inviting, she felt an urge to touch it, taste it, her neck tilted at the forbidden thought.

She jumped when he spoke,

“I’m sure changing doesn’t entail jumping on my bed with a wet towel.” His lips tilted, as though he was amused, “I could’ve burned you, how’re your hands.”

She put them behind her back, ignoring his impute words, “Angel-boy likes black, who would’ve thought.” Not sure whether she referred to the room which was draped and decorated in full black or his boxers.

Clare couldn’t help herself, there was something in his eyes, telling her to remain cautious. They spoke of fire, heat - burning things, there was a lot of kindness in them, a hard sort. Thinking about it, there

was something Angelic in him, but she remembered what Caidrian said about an Angel wanting her dead.