Fragile Fury - Chapter Five

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Okay, I know this is really short,

Sorry!

I will Be back in two weeks, Well 10 days, with loads of chapters written up!

Enjoy!

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Chapter four

Anna couldn't quite understand the feeling she had in her chest. When she saw him, kneeling on the floor with his wings dropped down beside him - in pain - because of her, she felt guilt; this time real, honest, guilt. A guilt that should have been there when she killed the man who she'd thought was her father. Guilt that should have been there when she told her real father that Luc had hit her. Guilt that should have even been there when she took a strawberry lolly from the corner shop when she was five. Yet it was never there at any of those times.

But that was all she could feel right now. It was burning inside her. She took a risk, reaching out and touching the Dark Angel in front of her. Her father had told her they were known as the Dark Daggers, elite and scary warriors, from a real Brotherhood. But Anna couldn't resist. She felt pulled towards him, by a strange yearning in her chest she had never felt before.

His skin was cold, yet burnt her skin with dazzling heat as her fingers traced his high cheekbones. His closed eyes would have landed on Anna's legs if he had opened them.

Anna tilted her head, until her ear almost brushed her shoulder. His muscled were so defined; she could see each groove and dip under his fair skin. When she looked up, Anna saw only the dark feathers, reflecting the moonlight they looked almost purple. His wings had curled around her, as if he was trying to keep her to himself.

Anna leant forwards until she could feel the cold heat of his skin brush against hers. He was intoxicating to her, like a drug that she wanted and needed. She just couldn't help herself.

Yet, as soon as her lips grazed the day's worth of stubble across his cheek, Anna so whished that she hadn't. Picture flashed before her eyes, voices sounded clear as if he had said them himself.

The first was the angel in front of her. Perched high in a tree, his wings of soft white feathers were tucked away neatly against his back as he stared out over the red fields.

A blood soaked child was what she saw next. His brown eyes filled with tears of terror. He lay screaming in the arms of man. She could only see the curve of his neck, as she peered over shoulder at the child.

The third picture was the worst. She could see the angle lying on the ground. Dust dirtied his wings making them look brown and old, like an old leather bound book that had been long forgotten. He was crying tears of blood, as he wept into the dirt.

'Thisss isss no more than what you dissserve,' hissed a bitter voice. Anna felt as if she was between the two men, between an angle and a serpent, between light and dark. Facing life and death, and the life lay bleeding.

'No,' the angel sobbed, 'I beg of you. Please, don't strip me of my wings,'

'I will do what I pleassse,' the voice hissed again before bringing a stick down hard across the angles back. He

lurched forwards, blood slipped from his new wound. Blood like nothing Anna had ever seen before. The tears in his eyes had been red, most certainly blood. Red was not the colour of his wound, it bleed sliver as a necklace trailing across his back.

'I can keep them,' the angle whispered, 'I know about The Fallen, the first and only fallen angel. Make me fall, please just let me keep my wings!'

'You will be The Dark Angel. You will be in ssso much pain, Cole' Anna could hear the smile in the man's voice as he spoke of the angel in pain. 'I will enjoy Thisss very much,'

Anna still couldn't see the man, only the angel on the floor, when a grey hand stretched past her shoulder. She flinched at its cold touch, and then screamed as she watched what he was doing. The hand grasped a handful of fluffy white feathers and ripped them out. The angel yelped, but the man didn't stop there. A horrifying scream reached through the angels lips, Anna's hands shot to her mouth holding back her scream. Tears poured hot and salty down her cheeks. The man had snapped the angel's wing clean in half, then in half again, and then he just ripped it from the angels back.

Anna jerked back, pulling her lips from The Dark Angel's cheek, so fast it made her stumble. His eyes stayed closed but he reached out holding her wrist to steady her.

'Let go of me,' she whispered. Her face felt damp, had she shed real tears as in the one memory?

'I will, when you do so to me,' the angle answered. Anna didn't know what he meant; she wasn't holding him at all.

'I'm not holding on to you,' Anna whispered. The angel opened his eyes and met hers. Anna forgot to breathe; his eyes were red as blood, dotted with dangerous sparks of gold.

'Your hold,' the angel gasped, 'it's inside my head. I can feel you there. It hurts,' Anna blinked and blinked again shaking her head until she felt the angle's grip on her wrist, sag.

The Dark Angel's eyes never left hers, and that pull was back. That yearning for his touch, his taste, his ragged breaths, that's what she wanted. But Anna was innocent, having thoughts and lust for a fallen angel, surely that wasn't what innocence was.

/Innocence is hidden lust/. Anna jumped, as something whispered to her. She looked around the room, there were men she hadn't met, more brothers, along with the ones she had. No of them wore faces as if they had heard the whisper.

A sharp bain burst through Anna's back, like a sun going super nova. Hot salty fluid filled her mouth, as her legs went numb.

'What have you done!' The Dark Angel was on his feet reaching above Anna. Without his gaze holding her upright, Anna fell forwards, and with a thud, she hit the floor. It was wet, and sticky, and when Anna opened her eyes she saw the lovely cream carpet of Sean's room, red with blood. She reached her hand back, wincing and grimacing with every movement, until her fingers touched cool metal.

Anna clenched her jaw and held her eyes shut so tight, it began to hurt. She curled her fingers around the dagger embedded in her spine, like a snake coiling it's prey. And pulled. The dagger slide free with a horrible wet sucking sound. She tossed the dagger and watched it spray faint dots of red on the white walls. Anna gasped when she felt the skin across her shoulder rip and tear. She lifted her head and looked upon her shadow, a horror filled open mouthed look drawn on her face.

The shadow she saw was not one of a normal girl. Sure, her hair and the shape of her head was the same. But the two huge wings that crept across the carpet like fingers reaching for the furthest corners of the room. Anna flinched when someone's fingers brushed a lock of hair out of her face.

'How did you do that, my lady' The voice whispered, carressing her skin wrapping around her like a silk dressing down. Her shoulders dropped back, her eyes shut softly as she listened to his voice. 'What are you, my beautiful lady.' Anna flinched again, only this time it was with power. She felt the sudden burth of power, the same as she had felt when she killed her father, and tried to kill Jordan's mother. She made a mental note to apologise to Luc and Dante as well.

'Who the hell stabbed her?' She growled, using her hand to pushed herself up.

'That would have been me,' a voice sneered. It sounded like a broken mirror, reflecting good, but cutting bad. 'You stole my husband, and I am not happy,'

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