Novel & Cerita Angel Wings Back

Frosty swamp water spurted when the edges of her right wing hit the murky swamp floor instead of piercing Angelo like a shish-kebab. “Woops! You sure are aggressive, woman!” Angelo twirled, finding the balance between his body and his wings as he made sure to fold his wings. The short curls that riddled his head swayed midair, covering his line of vision for a split second. Oops! I miss – or not. The reflection that Angelo glimpsed on the swamp’s murky waters was the image of Maleficent’s glowering emerald orbs – as if she won. On cue, the left wing which he forgot that existed struck his right shoulder from behind, earning Maleficent a grunt from Angelo.

He was always minding his business and saw Lacian's irritation for him as a normal way of life. All the Angels in Dulmore had a mark at the left side of their chest. It was a kind of big Loop in circles with a lock in the middle of it. When a seed is borne, Ichabod personally instills the mark on their chest, welcoming them to the deepest celestial pit and brotherhood of Dulmore. It would be a big festival, because new born seeds are rare and would always occur, thrice in a year.

"Don't you think it's also embarrassing to break up with me in front of everyone? You're really something," I shot back. I was ready to leave, but he grabbed my arm. At that moment, I wondered if I should have had my eyes checked back then. How had I ever found him appealing? "That's enough now. You are being rude." My anger was rising, yet he still clung to my hand stubbornly. When I turned around, I was taken aback.

“Are you my boyfriend or my bodyguard?” He held his ring in front of me, my eyes were magnetized by the intricate carvings on it. “Guardian angel, remember?” He straightened up on his seat, and in a louder than necessary voice, he said, “And unlike the last one you had, I have a sword, not a halo. And my wings are black, not white. It’s time they realized who they will have a problem with the next time they hurt even a single hair in your body!” My eyes widened at him. He took my hand in his again, and then he bent down to kiss my fingers once again. “I love you, angel.” He didn’t even whisper that. I was sure many people around us heard everything he said.

“Okay!” “Uhm, climb onto mommy’s back. We’ll reach home very soon. Hang on,” Monique said in a gentle voice like a soothing breeze that calmed Angel’s restlessness. Angel climbed onto Monique’s back. It had been some time since her mom piggybacked her. The gentle breeze blew at her thick, luscious hair. It felt so comfortable that she was not feeling that hungry anymore. Soon, she dozed off on Monique’s back. Monique walked back to the Moore manor with Angel on her back. When they finally reached, the sky had turned dark. Her legs were weak and trembling from exhaustion.

🍒Angela 🍒 And as if a sudden realization hit my mind, my eyes grew big. Was this...? "C'mon Angel, I didn't plan this for myself," he spoke, leaning towards my ear, "but if you still want to stay close, we can still go back home and--"

The mask kept me safe, kept my father’s spies guessing. Then the air shifted, like a storm cloud rolling over the sun. A hush fell over the arena, the music stuttering to a stop, as a new carriage appeared at the gates—black as midnight, its sides carved with wings that glowed with an eerie, silver light. The crowd parted, their whispers dying, and my stomach twisted, the orb pulsing hot against my chest. The Angel King stepped out, his silver hair catching the lantern light like a halo, his white robes flowing like liquid starlight. His wings, massive and shimmering, were folded tight against his back, but they seemed to hum with a power that made the air crackle. Nobody had expected him. N

And when they did— Misha’s arm slid tighter around my waist, pulling me flush against his side. His touch was gentle but firm, anchoring. He leaned in, voice low and smooth against my ear. “Straighten your back, Angel. You wouldn’t want your biggest enemies thinking there’s trouble in paradise, would you?” The nickname sent a jolt through me, grounding what I had to do now. Just like the man himself. I drew in a breath and lifted my chin, fighting the tightness in my chest.

“West wing. Third floor. Section twelve. Look for the silver spine editions, Old World Ritual Compacts and Divine Bonding Theories.” Auren bowed slightly in thanks, turned, and padded away like some kind of sexy, barefoot academic god. The man moved like gravity didn’t fully apply to him. His wings were still out, tucked in loosely but massive and gorgeous, brushing bookshelves as he passed. Riven muttered under his breath, “Damn showoff,” but grinned like he meant the opposite. Kael just shook his head. “We’re in a throuple with a literal angel. What even is our life?”

Frank arch a brow at her. "How do you mean?" Aria gave a shrug. "Maybe his mother was right. He doesn't like me" "Of course he does like you. I mean who wouldn't love an angel like you hmm?" He placed a quick kiss against her lip muting her protest_followed by another and another until it turned into a full blown make out section again and draining all the protest left in her body. ** It was a very sunny Sunday afternoon the next day when Aria arrived back at her house dressed in an oversized polo shirt that was obviously not hers as she stood fidgeting with the lock before pushing it open and stepping inside.