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After Leolin descended the rickety ladder, he lit an oil lamp, then turned to face one of his most prized possessions. The next item for his growing collection was dependent on this peculiar species who claimed he worked for God. A God… Leolin snorted as he stared at the atrocity, feeling sure the Fae Gods would find its claim amusing, as well.


While strolling through the Fae Forest, he discovered the Angel protecting a Human, who had been ravaged by Roamers, until Death showed. The curiosity was too much to bear and Leolin needed to see if he could bring it to his manor. Once Death took the Human, Leolin snagged it.


After a day of poking and prodding, the Angel’s opalescent blood had splattered all over Leolin’s body, leaving his Fae scent undetectable. That’s when the plan to take the throne from Zachariah came to fruition.


Leolin smiled at the sight. Strung up on a St. Andrew’s Cross leaning against the stone wall, the Angel named Toma hung in the nude, wilted from fatigue. His battle-worn wings, now almost bare of pristine feathers, draped from his back, the tips grazing the dirt floor. Dried blood coated his chin down to his abdomen. He moaned as a cool breeze hit his tormented body. He didn’t even want to lift his head to look his captor in the eyes.


“My, my, my. You look…strung out.” Leolin smirked.


“You will pay for your sins,” Toma said in a gravelly voice.


“No… No. This is where you have it wrong, Angel.” Leolin paced in front of Toma, tapping his lip with his finger. “You see, I don’t believe in your God. Therefore, I will answer to no one.”


Toma looked up, his gaze meeting Leolin’s. “Then how do you explain me?”


“You are just another Fae species.”


“I am an Angel, superior to all Fae species. I work for God, who is superior to all, including myself. No Fae Gods…” He spat on the dirt floor, “could ever be better than He.”


Copyright Rissa Blakeley 2016

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I grabbed him and held him while he cried. I couldn’t believe he hid all his pain from me. I was so furious that he was a pawn in some sick and twisted game of life, power, and greed.

Before all this happened, he was so calm and happy-go-lucky. It was like a levee had broken as he cried in my arms. Seeing him so distraught, and me trying to keep him from shattering was new for us. Henry was always the brave one, but I now saw him differently. Sophie was right. He was fragile. Much more than I could have ever imagined.

Henry was a broken man.

I pulled back, then grabbed his face, like he always did mine. I wanted to bring comfort to him. I wanted to get him through his pain and make him feel worthy.

“Henry,” I whispered. I didn’t know what to say to him so I kissed his salty tears. “I love you so much, Henry Daniels. I love you whole, and I love you broken.”


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