House Of Legions (The Angel Descendants book 1)

A loud siren was what sprung her up, almost falling off the bed. Clare woke up to a familiar place, but not familiar enough. It wasn’t London, it definitely wasn’t the holiday apartment she and her mother had stayed a few nights ago. This was spacious, way too colourful compared to her mother’s white obsession, and unreal, but it was no stranger to her eyes.

The soft cushions underneath her body were confusing as she was unaware of how she has gotten into the king-size bed when she couldn’t recall leaving the floor.

The room was dimmed with rays of sunlight shining in through the slits of the red velvet curtains, concealing wide stretched windows. She estimated their height of more than fifteen meters. The room itself was bigger than her entire house in Cambridge.

Her gaze darted around the expanse, as she wriggled herself to the right side of the bed. Closing her eyes, she prayed, “Please, let this be a really bad dream, please, I swear I’ll behave.”

Part of her knew what she’d find once she opened her eyes, so she didn’t need reality to sink in before she flung the blankets off. Padding her way across the room she opened the curtains.

The siren stopped, but her ears still rang with the noise. Standing in front of a glass mirrored door that led to a balcony, she stared at her reflection. Recognizing herself, the same messed up teenager, just more messed up than before, because now she was motherless as well, but wait not orphaned, because just before she lost her mother, she had found her father, what a happy story.

Hatred crept up into her veins at the ridicule of it. It all sounded like the perfect happily ever after, but the reality of it sucked.

Why was she being punished, or was she?

She felt torn, because parts of her felt betrayed, lied to. Even now, things were kept from her, but there were also the other parts, which never felt more alive, parts which craved to be like them, the Lightwatcher’s.

she looked like shit, she felt worse. But she still opened the door

rock but smooth-surfaced like it had been sandpapered. Scattering her eyes around Khiron was the only thing that

downstairs. She expected it to bustle with people, but it

mixed with something sweet, she couldn’t make out what it was, but it didn’t stop her eyes from burning with the need to cry. Her body yearned for a seed of relief from the horrifying image

would always remember the loss that had brought her here, the pain she felt when she

herself, “Don’t cry, you have to be

herself, the harder it became to understand the reason to hold on, the reason to be calm. It was one day after her mother’s death, and she felt frustrated, angry, sad, hurt, confused, it was mixed up, all there,

vase on the balcony, she picked the flowery pot

the room and started tippling everything she could find, screaming and cursing, “I hate you, I hate you, COWARD, you kept this from me, you lied to me, and then you left, you are a COWARD.” She threw the white side lamps on the floor that reminded her so much of her mother, and basked in the small satisfaction she got as it hit the stone tub in

are you doing, have you

GET OUT,” she snarled. Nathan completely ignored her and marched up to her in five long strides. He locked his thick fingers into her bony shoulders and held her tight, forcefully crushing her into his chest.

surrendered into his arms and burst out crying, she gave him all her heartache, all her pain, and discretions in those

up by the tears, “How can I live on from this,

he took her face between his hands, bent his head, searched her lost eyes, “I promise you little sister that

words, she shook her head, “How could you say that.