1. Dark Angel Part 8


    Date: 7/1/2017, Categories: Fantasy & Sci-Fi, Author: Levanahyll, Rating: 2, Source: LushStories

    “Get out,” Cyn grated. “I want the female,” A deep masculine voice snarled. Anniel frowned. She remembered that voice. The palace. The alpha werewolf at the dinner table. “You cannot have her,” Cyn replied his voice deadly. “You desire her,” A feminine voice shrieked, enraged. “You bastard.” Amidst all the screaming and growls, Anniel took a deep breath and tried to concentrate hard on using her limited powers to feel around the room. She cursed inwardly at not having listened to Seth and allowed him to help her expand her abilities. “You cannot have her,” Cyn roared. “She is mine. I will kill who ever touches her.” Vicious snarls reverberated throughout the room and then it sounded as if someone had turned on a jet. Two green orbs began glowing. “Get out, or I will fire upon the both of you.” “Stupid bitch,” the female spat, clearly out of control. “You’ll pay. You’ll see. Cyn is mine. Mine—you hear me?” Feet shuffled, as if someone were being forced from the room and then the door slammed. After a while, the noise and glaring green light faded. Anniel heard heavy breathing and realized it must come from Cyn. Whenever Gareth became upset, she would take him on her lap and rock him. He always enjoyed when she sang the dragon’s lullaby to him. Cyn was too big to fit on her lap, but maybe he’d enjoy her soothing him with the lullaby. Anniel began to sing in a low voice, soft and soothing. She was not an international rock star like Rowie, but her voice was pleasant enough. ...
    She heard his thumping steps as he approached her slowly. Anniel sat up straight on the edge of the bed she lay upon and tried to make out his form in all the black and grey splotches before her. It looked as if he’d gone down on his knees in front of her. She blinked in surprise when arms encircled her waist, and jumped a bit when he laid his head in her lap. Carefully, she stroked his hair and forehead and continued to sing. A quiver went through his large frame, making her pause. “Are you okay?” she asked when he remained silent. His voice was but a whisper, but she heard him clearly when he said, “My mother would sing that to me when I was a child.” Anniel’s heart began to race. “Where is your mother?” “I don’t know.” “Were you always called Cyneolle?” He remained silent a while. “No.” “W-what was your name before you were called Cyneolle?” Again he remained silent a while before answering. “I don’t remember.” Anniel bit her lip. “Was it…Gareth?” He stiffened this time and then shifted, lifting his head. Anniel held her breath, waiting for him to answer. “No.” The sob could not be contained anymore. Her heart crumpled, her breath choked in her lungs and she found she could no longer hold herself upright. Cyneolle climbed up beside her and pulled her onto his lap. He held her much like she’d cradled Gareth. Fisting the front of his shirt, she cried out her sorrow over the loss of her child once more. Anniel lamented ever having left him alone and prayed he hadn’t suffered ...
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