House Of Legions (The Angel Descendants book 1)

Chapter 88 (Clare)



Chapter 88 (Clare)

The words echoed through her, the possibility of it being her was none. She had not danced with him, or known him enough to have sparked such emotion through him.

“I have seen demons and I have seen Angels, Nikolai, and you stand by far the fairest of them all.”

His jaws tightened, Clare could see the history and loss that layered behind his eyes, and all that sorrow, that came with it. As she moved closer, he turned his face shadowing his emotions.

“Don’t! You should stay away from me.”

“Nikolai, don’t push me away.”

The night, bringing its darkness in shades of grey, she sat there looking at him, her heart raced. Clare could not believe what her eyes foretold. His eyes changing into lights of red and orange flames, before her very own, burning behind his lashes. Blood red sparks visioning itself, diminishing his once pure inhuman greened eyes, into something dark and heavenly at the same time. Her breath rose, her mind contemplated grasping realities. She kept her gaze strong, clenched to his face.

A symbol of a star appeared from under his skin, on his left temple. Flaming sparks of lava shone through it. He looked at her, she could see the light reflecting parts of his cheekbones, enhancing his flawless skin in the twilight of fire, “Nikolai, your..”

He pierced her vision with a lava glare, flaring his nostrils like the heat burned untimely through his Armored flesh, “I’m a monster, a beast, not so sweet and charming now, am I Love.”

Nikolai stood up daring not to face her. She got up on the tower, her hands shaded with dirt from the roof, walking after him, her bravery showing not one of a human.

Losing her balance she slipped off the top of the Eiffel Tower. Falling, Clare didn’t scream, she welcomed it. The peace and adrenaline of letting go. She was mid-air when appeared in front of her,

grabbing her waist, his grip not faltering, as a parachute clutched to her body, lifting her slowly and vanishing into the darkness. This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

They didn’t go back, instead, they appeared on the Wickery bridge. It was afternoon, the sun still blazing, not yet set, quiet.

He let her go as if he meant to push her, “What were you thinking, are you trying to get yourself killed, you are reckless with your mortality.”

Clare didn’t reply, she couldn’t help staring at him. His eyes blazing like a tamed fire. She touched his face, catching herself and biting her bottom lip, trying hard to control herself. But it was useless, she hadn’t felt this lustful emotion before, she tried to resist the temptation, but it was too hard to contain. Her body wouldn’t let her, she found herself going towards him. Her lips on his, kissing him urgently.

Nikolai responding to her kiss, holding her cheek in his hand, and grabbing her tightly with his open one. She continued kissing him, not taking time to excrete the carbon from her lungs, the urgency of heat pouring between them like it was the only time they would ever get. They kissed like the world was going to collapse separating them for eternity.

He stopped pulling away, his face returning to normal.

“Clare, no, this is wrong, what's the matter with you, your emotions are chaotic, it's your body changing, you need to control yourself.”

Ignoring him, she kissed him again, their mouths perfectly fitting into each other, matching each movement in sync. He grabbed her around her waist, touching the skin under her top. Her breathing louder, more impulsed, she put her hands under his shirt, feeling his back muscles flexing beneath her very touch. The hotness of his body penetrating through her hands, making her feel clammy.

He pulled away again, “Fuck, Clare, control yourself, we need distance.” Walking speedily away from her. Gaining distance, with his hands on his head, she could hear his hastened breath and cursing words. Clare stood there, stunned, unable to gasp for air or believe she could feel this inhibited lust so quickly. Lust, she didn’t know why, kissing him, touching him, it felt wrong and right at the same time. What was happening to her, she didn’t feel this way about him, she knew she couldn’t. He was cute but she just met him, this was wrong, she missed William, she needed William, oh gosh what had I done.

She tried to make sense of what she just did. Her life was falling apart, she lost everything, with nothing more to lose. It didn’t mean anything, it was lust, and it helped take her mind off stuff. He was beautiful in his own dark and twisted way she thought, and she had never kissed a guy like this before. Nikolai turned and walked back to her, she was still too exasperated to say or do anything.

He shouted angrily, “You could have an angel at your side, but you choose the demon instead, you are choosing wrong, if Kalbreal found out about this it will crush him.”

She hadn’t thought about it that way. But she couldn’t say kissing Nikolai didn’t feel good. There was something about him, something familiar. She still couldn’t shake the feeling, even kissing him. She walked closer to him, taking his hand in hers, he flinched, pulling away.

“I’m bad when it comes to decisions, Nikolai, I know.” She cried out, “You not the first guy I kissed without warning, but Kalbreal wants more from me, I can never give him what he wants when I already gave my heart to another.” William, she thought, she had given her heart to William. “I’m messed up, So to answer your unasked question, I have a right to make mistakes and be reckless and decide to kiss a Caster because he is hot, and feel nothing but lust, but it wasn't right, and for that I'm sorry.”

She turned to face the sun, trying to conceal her tears, “I lost everything, Nikolai, don’t you get it, nothing is ever going to be the same, I’m always going to be broken, my brother said it will get better, but it just gets worse, there’s no end to this.” She faced him, “besides death and bloodshed.”

He walked closer to her, uttering words she could only hear, “I do get it, Love, believe me, but I can’t be your distraction.”

“I wouldn't either.”

“You got it all wrong love, No matter how many lifetimes I live, and the demons I kill, I would never be worthy of an Angel, even if it’s just for lust.” His words bitter but he believed them. She could feel it in his words.

Clare touched his face, smiling sadly, “I’m no Angel.”

He clenched his jaw, “No Clarebella, you are by far more gracious, and you belong to another, you said so yourself, and let's hope he doesn't castrate me when he finds out about this, because he will find out.”

He grabbed her arm, teleporting them inside his car, they sat there, silence speaking between them.

Clare, stunned by his words, didn’t know why, but she felt so fragile and angry at the same time. She didn’t know if it was because of him, or the obvious, that she had a lot to take in.

She met the woman who given birth to her, only to be told that she had given her up. She had looked into her real father's eyes and saw nothing but love in them. Nothing like Caidrian, but this was different. She conjured up the way her father would look at her when he’d finally met her, and Wesley’s was more, more than she had imagined. He loved her, she knew it and felt it. How was she going to face them, it was all too much. She jumped out of the car.

Deceptors gathering on the pavements, attracting attention to herself, kinda hard not to when you were leaning on an Aston Martin.

Her eyes darted to him, searching for something. He was a drunk, a Tempters son, she hated that she betrayed William, and was grateful for Nikolai pushing her away, making her see reason. She just hoped that William would understand.

But one thing was clear, she needed something to do, to keep her busy. She was so far away from home and didn’t even know where home would be now, but one thing was certain, she wasn't leaving Calub behind. Pushing her hair out of her face, Clare jumped back into the car without a word. He started the car, driving the alien roads as the traffic began building up. The minutes in the car felt like hours to Clare. Words unspoken to each other were more said with the tension between them. He turned into a road called Beverly Hills 90210.


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