Wounded Angel Painting Novels & Stories

we leave them, in a century they will be no more human and that's a line Even the devil can't cross, I was invisible so I watch the war, I saw a vampire biting off an Angel's neck, oh no, his body immediately wither, One Angel down but Angels are winning the war, then I saw it, a baby in the middle of a war? how did that happen, whoever keep the infant, hid it well, I look at the child and I felt it, the irresistible urge to protect the child, as I touch the baby's cheek I realized I have turned visible, the infant open his red eyes, in a second his eyes change its color to hazel I blink, the infant is a vampire, I know I should leave, but the infant is so adorable. we fight against the vam

The icy blast would’ve made anyone else recoil, but Dante stood there, solid and unmoving, like he was made of stone. His back was a canvas of ink, just like his front. The artwork was nothing short of breathtaking. Spanning across his entire back was a massive, detailed tattoo—an angel, powerful and divine, standing within the ruins of an ancient temple. The wings spread wide across his shoulder blades, reaching toward his arms, while crumbling pillars surrounded the figure in dramatic grayscale contrast. It wasn’t just a tattoo; it was a story, a testament, a work of devotion etched forever into his flesh. It was absolutely beautiful—mesmerizing, even.

"What did you paint, mama bear?" Shayla held up her canvas. She had painted the ocean. Blue water stretching to the horizon. White foam on the waves. A sunset in the background. Simple but pretty. "That is beautiful," Angel said. "Really beautiful, Mommey." "Thank you, baby. What about you? What did you paint?" Angel turned her canvas around. She showed them what she had been working on so carefully. It was people. A family. Clearly recognizable figures despite Angel's young artistic skills.

I carried him back to his bed tucking him in and kissed his forehead, "Goodnight my little love I will see you in the morning now dream sweet dreams." I turned on his night light as his eyes drifted closed and left his door cracked as I walked out. Now was the time to find Ryker I was getting worried since I haven't seen him all this time. I kept going seeing if I could use the bond to find him but I felt nothing I instantly knew what room had that protection and headed to my grandfather's office. I passed by all the art on the walls on my way to the office examining them as if I have never noticed them before. One piece caught my eye of a beautiful angel fighting along the side of wolves in

he said, blew her a kiss, and exited the room. Xavier walked into his room furiously, truth be told, he was super angry and was actually not in the mood to joke around with Adriana. He was angry that he was unable to protect her, the scar on her shoulder and her still yet red eyes were signs that he was useless. "Red, why am I so useless?" He asked in desperation. " Of course, you are not" "Really? Who are you going to deceive? How many people were unable to protect their mates the way I was unable to?" He asked.

It’s an excuse for me to keep myself to myself, she pointed out to herself, unsure as to whether she could fight her wolf’s urge to be close to Layon for the rest of the flight. “I thought you weren’t worried about me,” Layon said, raising an eyebrow at her even as he buckled his own belt, clearly having the same idea. Angel couldn’t help but wonder whether he did so in order to stop himself from trying to get to her. She tried to reach out to his wolf, hoping she could glean some information on how he was feeling, but all she could feel coming off him was pain. Her stomach clenched as she wondered just how bad his head was really injured. Yet when she gave a discreet sniff, she realized tha

Vicoliz exclaimed as he launched the first attack at the angel who swiftly dodged it and gave him a knee kick to his abdomen sending Vicoliz offbalance, and as a result he lost grip of his sword, in which the weaponless angel grabbed instantly and gave Vicoliz a cut on his left arm. Blood flowed from the deep cut on his arm. Vicoliz held his arm as he staggered back in pain. He took a glance at his wounded arm and put his index finger on the open wound and touched his blood. He put the blood stained index finger and licked the blood with his tongue and instantly the wound healed and closed up. The angel was shocked at what just displayed before his eyes.

Izzy continued, gaining confidence, "you could help her feel beautiful inside again so she can paint. Because she cries sometimes, you know. At night. I hear her when I'm getting water...." The simple declaration hit me like a physical blow. I'd known Angel was still adjusting to her new circumstances, but I hadn't realized she was crying alone at night. "She cries about her mom's painting a lot," Izzy added, confirming my suspicion about which painting had affected Angel so deeply. "The butterfly one. She told me it was the last thing her mom painted before she died." I'd purchased that painting five years ago from a small estate sale, drawn to its raw emotional power despite knowing nothin

is a spoiled Sin who always fights her twin brother. “Rayne, I’ll be off now.” Angel said as she got her bag. “There she goes again. Why can't you spend a little more time with us?” Ashley complained as she got up to look at Angel. “If I don’t get home before Jiro, he’ll be suspicious.” She explained with a smile. “How about your bruise?” Jacob asked, still looking at his phone. “A little make-up will do.” Angel said as she winked at us. Angel is a model and she’s an amazing make-up artist. Asides from glamming herself for pictorials, she also uses her talent to hide bruises and cuts from combats. Amazing and scary at the same time.

Silent tears falling as I continued, Angel crying in pain and anguish. Once we are both washed and clean to the best of my ability, I move to dry us off with a towel. Moving her over to the bed and giving Caleb a chance to shower. Attending to her wounds, I move to apply generous amounts of creams and antiseptics, no bandages to be found as I move to help her dress before propping her up on the bed. Caleb joining us shortly before attending to his own wounds.