All Chapters of Heir Of Angels: Stalking Vaelora Book 1: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

20 Chapters

11. But I See You

Vaelora’s POV “Do you want to rip my arm off?” Andrew protested as I hauled him down the stairs, my boots slapping against the wooden stairs with every angry step. “Sorry,” I apologized, letting go of his wrist. The redness on it reminded me of what Xyrelle’s whip had done to mine. I paused at the foot of the stairs, shaking the memories out of my mind. My eyes landed on the door that had a golden plaque which read MADAME AGNES, WITCH AND PROPHETESS. The house we lived in was split into separate apartments. My mother and I shared the uppermost floor consisting of three bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen, and bathrooms in each room, while the downstairs tenant was an elderly woman, Madame Agnes, who ran a spiritual shop in her apartment. She hardly ever came out of it, though customer visits were not frequent. Sometimes, I wondered if they truly believed she was a witch. The thick sweet scent of incense spilled from the half-open door into the foyer. I inhaled it, closing my ey

12. Sigil

Vaelora’s POV I burst through the doors, my eyes frantically searching the environment, terrified that Zane would’ve disappeared into the alley shadows like he always did. To my uttermost surprise, he was there, slouched against the wall. He had just taken something out of his pocket that looked so much like what Mum had given me this morning. Earlier, I’d thought the red glowing stuff had looked like Zane’s amber-glowing knife, but it wasn’t. This was much leaner and filled with mysterious markings. He looked up as the door of the restaurant fell shut behind me. In the rapidly fading sunlight, his hair looked coppery gold. “Your boyfriend’s taste buds are terrible,” he said. I blinked, caught momentarily off guard. “Sorry?” “I said his taste buds are terrible, like they’ve been made of sand, created to taste even the most horrible things as good. You agree, don’t you?” “My fiancé’s taste buds shouldn’t be any of your business.” I was furious. “I want to know why you are s

13. Mum! Talk to me!!

Vaelora’s POV“Damn… this is me?” He slowly took my paper from my hand, his eyes dragging over every detail before a smug grin spread across his face.I narrowed my eyes. What was this guy onto?He continued. “You drew my jawline sharper than it actually is. You this obsessed with me all the time and you lie that you don’t love me stalking you?”My eyes widened. No, no, it can’t be. I couldn’t have…He glanced up at me, clearly enjoying my panic.“Wait—” he tilted the paper closer, pretending to inspect it seriously. “You even got the Sigil on my neck right.” His eyes slowly met mine, smug and dangerous. “That means you stared at me that night way more than I thought. Kinda creepy, don’t you think?”My soul actually left my body.Then he smirked. “Careful, love. Keep drawing me like this and I’m gonna start thinking you want me.”There was no other explanation for the horrifying emptiness in my brain as he held up the sketch like some proud museum curator showing off a masterpiece.My

14. Terrorized

Vaelora’s POV The weather had gotten even colder, and running home felt like swimming as fast as I could through a pool full of ice cubes. At the corner of a block, I got hit by someone riding a bicycle. We both went down. My arms hurt, but I quickly stood, ignoring the numbing pain I felt. “Are you okay?” I asked the rider. Not waiting for his response, I jittered up and down impatiently on the balls of my feet while traffic whizzed by in a blur of headlights. I was crossing the road like a mad person, barely paying attention to the chaos around me. Horns blared from every direction, people shouting as cars squeezed past each other. I stepped off the curb too quickly and suddenly a taxi came speeding toward me. The sharp screech of brakes ripped through the air, loud enough to make my heart stop. Tires scraped harshly against the road as the taxi halted inches away from me. My breath caught in my throat while people around me gasped and cursed. For a second, everything froze.

15. Crazy Plan B

Vaelora POV I staggered backward, tripped, and fell just as the creature lunged after me. I rolled to the side and it missed me by inches, sliding along the wood floor, its claws gouging deep grooves. A low growl bubbled from its throat. I scrambled to my feet and ran toward the hallway, but it was too fast for me. It sprang again, landing just above the door, where it stayed like a malignant gigantic spider, staring down at me with its scary eyes. Its jaw opened slowly, showing a row of fanged canines and molars that looked so sharp. I didn’t want to imagine how much pain I would feel if it managed to sink its teeth into my flesh. How did my life get to this point? I had no time for self-pity as the thing gurgled and hissed. To my horror, I realized that the noises it was making were words. “A girl,” I managed to decipher. “Fresh flesh. Fresh blood. To eat, to drink. Oh, lovely snack.” It hissed. It began to slither down the wall towards me. Some part of me had passed be

16. My Stalker Saved My Day Again

Vaelora The monster lunged, and I stumbled backward against the counter, biting down hard on my lip to stop myself from screaming. Tears blurred my vision, but I forced myself to stay standing. “Come on,” I whispered, trying to sound braver than I felt. “Come get me.” The creature growled and charged. For one terrible second, I almost lost my nerve. But then I recalled Momma’s terrified voice over the phone. How scared she sounded. I remembered the fear that was evident in her voice. The noises. And something inside me hardened. I whirled my head to the monster. It was getting closer and closer. Without a second thought, I started to turn on the gas stove switch one by one until the smell of it overtook that of the monster’s foul odor. I grabbed the red knife and gas lighter from the counter. The monster’s footsteps thudded against the floor as it came closer, slow and heavy, like it already knew I couldn’t escape. The overhead light flickered weakly above us, thro

17. Feeling Of Safety

Vaelora POV I flinched backward hard enough to hit the blackened wall behind me. My breath caught in my throat while dark smoke spread through the room like burnt paper. The demon was gone. Gone. I stared at the empty space where it had been standing only seconds before. My ears rang so badly I could barely hear anything else. The apartment Mum tried so hard to keep neat and arranged was destroyed now. Broken glass covered the floor. Her drawings that had taken her months to paint and finalize were scattered in black, jagged pieces everywhere. Nothing felt real. Zane lowered the strange amber-glowing blade slowly. He pulled his jacket cap off his head and ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes still on me before he slowly turned them away, looking around the apartment, checking every shadow carefully like he expected another monster to jump at us. His eyes landed on me again. The look on his face changed instantly. “Are you hurt?” he asked. I opened my mouth, but no

18. Memory Block

## Chapter 18### VaeloraVaelora's POVI didn’t look back at Zane. I didn’t care if he followed me or if he vanished back into the shadows like the ghost he was. Blinded by anger, I bolted out the hanging, splintered front door and lunged down the wooden staircase, my boots slamming against the steps in a frantic, desperate rhythm.There was one person left in this building. One person who claimed to see things nobody else could.I reached the bottom landing, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. I threw myself at Madame Agnes's door. I began to knock. Not a polite rap, but a frantic, heavy pounding. Knock. Knock. Knock.“Madame Agnes! Open the door!” I yelled, my palms smacking against the heavy wood. Knock, knock, knock.The thick, cloying scent of sage and incense seeped through the cracks, mixing with the smell of smoke still clinging to my hair. Nobody answered. I kept going, pouring all my panic, all my desperation into the wood. Knock, knock, knock.Finally,

19. A Pompous Fiancé 1

Vaelora POV The adrenaline that had propelled me out of Madame Agnes’s cluttered apartment didn’t fade; it morphed into something cold, heavy, and dangerous. My lungs burned with the residual sting of smoke as I forced my feet to move silently up the wooden stairs. The fire extinguisher was awkward and heavy in my arms, its metal edges digging painfully into my ribs, but my grip on the handle was a vice. Every instinct I had was screaming at me to run, to flee into the pouring rain and never look back. But panic had burned itself out, leaving only a raw, desperate fury in its wake. Someone was in our apartment. Someone who might know exactly where they had taken my mother. I crept onto the upper landing, the shadows stretching long and distorted across the water-damaged walls. The door to our apartment hung crookedly on its hinges, splintered and blackened around the frame. Through the gap, the smell of charred fabric and ozone drifted out, thick enough to choke on. I squeeze

A Pompous Fiancé 2

Vaelora's POV “I’m just saying, it was incredibly embarrassing—” “You are standing on top of the answer to why I left early!” I shrieked, the full force of my fury finally breaking through. I gestured wildly at the collapsed ceiling, the charred walls, and the complete destruction around us. “My house is destroyed! My mother was dragged out of here by force! And your primary concern is that people at a high-end restaurant thought you got stood up?! You’re worried about your social status while my life is completely burning to the ground?!” Andrew winced slightly, stepping back as the sheer volume of my voice seemed to finally register. He cleared his throat, adjusting the collar of his scuffed jacket, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. “Look… okay, I’m sorry,” he muttered, though his tone was defensive, his eyes darting away from mine. He didn’t look sorry at all. He looked like a man who was simply trying to say the right words to get out of trouble, his mind still entirely focused

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