Author's Note: This book has not yet been edited.
Alaric eyed the sun, covering his hazel eyes. It was early and hot, two things he hated more than anything. Taking a long drag of his cigarette before dropping it to the ground, he curled his lips in detest at the idea of his upcoming meeting. If he’d been summoned by Raien, there was only one reason, he would finally be getting his assignment. The fast buzzing of the town square seemed to intensify his hangover, and he rubbed his forehead trying his best to absolve the tension.
“Out partying all night again?”
He turned and smiled devilishly at Raien. “Add a little fornication to that and you’ve pretty much summed up my night.” Raien sighed and glared at him, making Alaric smile harder. “Don’t look at me like that Raien. You do what you want when you’ve fallen out of daddy’s favor.”
“And that doesn’t bother you at all? Your brother may not be in his favor but at least he still gave him Hell to reign over.”
Alaric waved him off. “Why am I here?” Turning Alaric around, Raien pointed his long finger at a woman.
Alaric sized her up, deciding she was beautiful. The sun kissed her bronze skin, as she quickly made her way through the square. He liked the way she’d cut her hair, even though she constantly fiddled with it. Her full lips containing only clear gloss, nothing over the top but still very appealing.
“Raien… as much as I appreciate you picking out my lunch, I’m very capable of selecting my own meals.”
“Always with the sarcasm huh? Well laugh at this, that’s your new assignment.”
Alaric cut his eyes at the woman, watching her bend down to hand a homeless man change. “Ew…she’s a goodie, goodie not interested.”
Raien scowled at him. “You don’t have a choice in the matter. You want your wings back, you will help her.”
Alaric huffed loudly under his breath. Ever since his father clipped his wings, he’d been on Earth waiting for his assignment. Still, he was irritated, the good girl in front of him wasn’t what he necessarily was looking for when he made his promise to be spared. He ran his fingers through his hair.
“Why does it have to be her?”
“Because it was her you vowed to protect, or did you forget that too? A promise to protect the child whose parents died at your hands.”
Alaric’s back stiffened as his eyes continued to bore into the woman. “You sure it’s her?” His face hardened. It was the one topic that he hated discussing. The true reason for his exile, the real reason he’d lost his wings.
“Yes, how fitting for you to be betrothed to-”
Alaric choked on his spit. Anger and shock worked simultaneously to create a storm in the eyes. “What the fuck did you just say?!”
Raien knew this wouldn’t be easy. “Your father doesn’t believe you’ll keep your word unless you’re forced to through a connection.”
Alaric seethed, “I’m very much capable of keeping my word without being FORCED to marry someone.” It was so typical of all of them. Using love as manipulation but punishing others who did the same.
A large burly man walked up to the woman and placed his massive hand around her waist. The gold from his wedding band caught Alaric’s attention and his devilish smile returned. “Guess you and dear old dad miscalculated, goodie goodie’s already taken.” He said pointing to the couple.
He might not know her, but he did know people. He knew she wasn’t the type to consort with already married men. He shoved his hands into his long leather jacket and waited for Raien’s response. Instead of saying anything, he nodded his head towards them again. Alaric watched her grimace before attempting to pull herself free from the large human’s hand. The man yanked her back roughly before aggressively whispering something in her ear. Fear lined her face, and she fidgeted with the ring on her finger while looking down at her shoes. Alaric felt his blood boil and he took a step forward but Raien placed his hand to his chest.
“Easy,” He murmured as Alaric blew steam from his nose.
“Fucking asshole.”
Raien arched his brow. “What do you care?”
Alaric didn’t like what he was insuating. Replacing his hands in his pocket, he turned his back on the scene. “I don’t.” He shot at Raien before fading away into the crowd.
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Eva removed her jacket and placed her hands on her lower back. She winced, certain that Charles had left another bruise. Carefully sitting in her chair, she aimlessly clicked through the emails in front of her. Emails from fans and reporters all wanting to know when her next book would be released. She placed her head on the desk and groaned loudly. Writer's block had been kicking her ass, and her work was suffering.
I just need one more idea, then I’ll have enough money saved to get away.
She looked out at the sun as it crept into her office window. Her eyes traveled around the large space, landing on her bookcase. Standing she walked over to the furniture and thumbed through the various selections. The hardcovers of many slowly returning her joy. Eva loved books more than anything. It was the whole reason she took to writing. A way to escape the trials and turmoil of her life that currently, she wasn’t able to get away from in reality. It was these very books that aided her in coping when Charles raised his hand and struck her, the smell of these pages that soothed her soul as she hid her busted lip. Her hands shook as she tried to touch her own books that were also on the shelf. Best Sellers they’d called them, and yet she felt like it was nothing but a lie. To many, she was considered famous, but to her, she was trapped. The caged hummingbird had been beaten until they no longer could sing.
Her shaky fingers touched the last book she’d written. It had been her favorite. A dark romance about an Incubus who is reunited with his assumed to be dead wife. She ran her fingers across the etched letters of the title, before slowly returning it to the shelf. “I’m not allowed to write about that stuff anymore.” She murmured to herself. Charles had made that very clear. Turning, she slowly made her way back to her desk, before hearing a book drop. A brow raised, she returned to the bookcase and bent down to pick up the book. She studied it in confusion.
“Where the hell did this come from?”
The black cover juxtaposed perfectly with the smoothness of the man on it. His hazel eyes seemed to pierce right through her, sending a chill up her spine. His hands holding a bloodied rose, against his chiseled face. She’d never seen someone who looked so evil and sensual at the same time. Deciding she didn’t like the way the picture made her feel, she opened the book to take a peek. Reading the first few lines, every word appeared to draw on her lips.
Alaric is by far his father’s most troubled son. Created to take over the heavens, his once white wings blackened as his true nature formed. He is known for his propensity of drinking blood, feeding off sexual energy, and partaking in sadistic forms of torture both for sexual gratification and barbaric torment. Often mistaken for his brother, he is in fact the eldest, most powerful. His very essence is a mixture of all things. Angelic, demonic, vampiric… there is no such correct label to explain what he is though for most he is addressed as simply… Something Wicked.
