LOGINIn a ravaged Earth where fallen angels and their offspring the Nephilim walk the world humans known as Hunters fight back. Their mission? To hunt and kill the Nephilim and save the women the angels are taking for breeding purposes. What happens when one Hunter finds herself captured by the enemy? Will the truth she finds bring society to its knees
View MoreSEVERAL CENTURIES LATER CAIN “Come on Dad,” Vita taunted, flicking her long dark hair behind her shoulder. Her stance was low, feet planted firmly on the ground. I grinned at her, showing my teeth in a feral grin. My middle child was a feisty little spitfire of a Nephilim. She was so much like her mother, in looks and attitude; which is exactly why she and Yona fought constantly. Both of them headstrong, wildly intelligent and with tongues so sharp they could flay skin from bone. I glanced up briefly before lunging forward, quickly flipping her onto her back, not to be out maneuvered she landed a kick to my stomach that had me shuffling backward with the force. Beating her onyx wings she lifted herself up, a smile on her face. “Would you two stop dicking around?” My eldest son, Sabrael drawled, walking into the training ring. A small blonde human tucked up against him, her smile bright as she looked up at him. Sabrael too was a warrior like his sister, but where Vita was all bark
YONA His pain was cleaving my heart in two. This tortured, beautiful man across from me deserved so much more than he was allowing himself to have. His eyes shimmered with the pain of his loss, and the knowledge tore at my soul. He was mourning, and had been for centuries; but also couldn’t move on without feeling guilty. The struggle was written all over his face and I couldn’t hesitate lest it cost me. Leaning forward I cupped his cheek, my hand brushing over the rough stubble there, before I met his chapped lips with mine. He groaned at the contact, his hands fisting at his sides as he fought his urges. I knew, I could feel, he wanted this; me. Yet he thought himself unworthy, and he had to reach his breaking point before he gave in, a point I planned to push him to. My fingers gently traced a path down his arm, resting at his wrist, my tongue flicking at the seam of his mouth, begging for entrance. In a moment I was under him, Cain having lunged forward, his arms wrapped around
CAIN (Listen to HUSHH by AViVA for the vibe) Yona soared higher and higher, weaving in fluid motions through the sky. She was breathtaking, her dark hair fanning out behind her as her wings flexed and contracted; the appendages catching the light and revealing their true colors. She had come for me, I hadn’t thought she would; a broken man like me had nothing to offer her. The soul tie thrummed in my chest, demanding I go to her but I fought it; I knew it was useless and that it was dooming both of us. As time went on I became weaker, sicker and I knew she was suffering the same fate. It was selfish of me, but I couldn’t seem to help it, everytime I even thought of the tie, Verity's face swam in my mind and I was lost to my eternal grief. God's ultimate joke on me. Curse me, exile me, then give me a family only to rip them away before saddling my pathetic soul to some poor Nephilim. Not just that, one of Shamshiel’s descendants; so I could never truly escape nor be at peace. Wasn’
YONA The days blurred into weeks, and weeks blurred into months. Cain had left, nowhere to be found, not that I had really tried. He didn’t want me, not that I blamed him. From what I knew of Verity she had been exceptional. A strong, sassy woman, who was not afraid to put him in his place while rejoicing in all that he was. I wasn’t stupid, a connection like that would never be forgotten, replaced, or broken; even in death. He would fight this until the last breath I was certain, and in the meantime we both got to feel like shit. Castor was pumping me full of tonics and supplements, keeping my strength and nutrients up but it was only delaying the inevitable. I sighed and leaned forward on the table, needing a minute to collect my thoughts through the brain fog that had been getting thicker and thicker the longer this went on. “Yona,” my fathers voice cut through the room, kind and gentle. I hadn’t heard him even come in, but then again he had a tendency to sneak up on people. “D
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