***

The room was rowdy, as the people caught up with news and conversations, completely disregarding all the drama that had taken place twenty minutes ago.

Clare had just spoken with one of her own, Draiken when she spotted Vincent, “There’s one who can be of grave use to you Clare, he’s in the mountains of Aquadore, him as an ally might just save your life.”

She smiled at Vincent, he leaned in closer to her ear, a hint of a smile brushed his lips as he whispered, “Nikolai Blackwyll, I suggest you go alone.”

“Thanks, Vincent,” he winked at her and walked away.

Clare’s gaze shifted, it landed on Kalbreal across the room. He stood alone, lost in his mind no doubt, and she just couldn’t look away from the gingered hair Angel, who was now part of her past and possible future.

his link to her past, or that he had purposely defended her, by going against his own.

of her, leaving her bare. The same thing she had hated and chastised herself about, the same sickness that she tried so hard to reverse, was the same thing that

saving her and the determination he set on keeping her alive,

her gaze when he turned to face her as if he could feel her eyes trained on him. It should have freaked her out, that he knew exactly when she watched him, but it didn’t, and she was in no mood to analyze what that

young and fearless, with raven black hair, and the eyes, she couldn’t remember the eyes, it was always blocked, maybe it was a trick of the light but she was almost certain it glowed, ha, she’ll remember eventually. Nathan explained

more, much more behind those locked memories, and maybe the reason for her mother’s death laid there waiting to be reborn. She had to try and piece together the events which transpired when she was younger. Her instincts told her that she needed to do it soon because something was coming

a constant in the last few days, since her life turned into turmoil. Seeing him now as not just her one time saviour, but the reason for

said he’d saved her twice. Now when she saw him, she found it hard not to see a broken Angel with blazing wings, and even harder not to look at him as one who had

he did not have midnight blue eyes that glimmered in the darkness or the touch that possessed her from the very first time. So though there was a small part of her that felt for Kalbreal, he was not the one she yearned for. Not the one she craved like an addiction, writhing for her next hit, not knowing what she was addicted to. That one, his name was William, and he was coming for her. She felt it in her soul, as strongly as the shudder that rippled through her at the mere thought

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