Supernatural Lies: A Paranormal Reverse Harem Romance (An Angel and Her Demons Book 1), Lacey Andersen [phonics story books txt] 📗
- Author: Lacey Andersen
Book online «Supernatural Lies: A Paranormal Reverse Harem Romance (An Angel and Her Demons Book 1), Lacey Andersen [phonics story books txt] 📗». Author Lacey Andersen
What was there to say? That all she had left to remind her that she was an angel was a black feather and painful scars on her back?
Shuddering, she squeezed her eyes shut for a long minute. She couldn’t think of that now. If she did, she might fall apart again.
Focus on the present.
She still didn't know if the strange men could be trusted, but something deep inside told her she was safe. There was just something… kind about them. She even drew unexpected comfort from being held in the strong arms of the man named Mark.
They continued driving in silence as they left the woods behind and entered a bright city. She stared out the window without seeing, until they drove through a tiny gate into a lush landscape of plants and trees. There was a kind of quiet splendor to the wildness of the plants and trees that made her feel as if they had entered a sanctuary. What a strange place.
She sat up slightly as a beautiful home rose up in the midst of the stunning garden. The home was larger than she expected in the city, like a charming brick manor untouched by time.
One of the men turned off the engine, and they all stared at the dark manor. There was something in the air that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but the man holding her looked strangely relieved.
“We’re home,” Mark whispered, opening the door and carrying her out into the chilly night.
He carried her through a simplistically decorated home with high ceilings, brick walls, and modern furniture. It was a strange combination, like two worlds coming together, but she liked it. Glancing at Mark, she could somehow picture the man in this house, feeling perfectly comfortable.
When he took her down a hall and came to the end of it, he froze before a wooden door.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, looking at his pained expression.
Her words seemed to wake him, and he reached for the handle. “Nothing. I just haven’t been in here for a long time.”
She wanted to ask him more. But the questions wouldn’t leave her tired lips.
He took her into the room and put her gently on a bed with a white comforter. White curtains hung from its four posters, creating a simple beauty she might have enjoyed at any other time. It’s how I’d decorate my own room. She stared out the large balcony windows, her thoughts wandering.
She heard Mark draw a bath for her.
“Do you… need help?” He gestured from her to the bath.
“No,” she whispered, then laid her feather gently down on the white comforter.
He nodded, went to some drawers, and laid clothes out on her bed, cautious of her feather. “If you need anything, I’m just a call away.”
If her heart hadn’t felt so broken, she might have smiled. Instead, she stared at him until he left.
She went to the bathroom and stared at her reflection in the mirror. The woman looking back at her looked sickly thin and sad. Sweeping her dark hair off her shoulder, she turned and looked at the ugly, red scars on her back, and her skin stained with blood.
A sob exploded from her lips. She pressed her knuckles to her mouth, but the sobs wracked her body.
How—why? She cried harder.
Collapsing onto her knees, she willed herself to stop crying. But it didn’t work. The tears came. No matter how much she begged them to stop. Running in angry streams down her face. Shaking her entire frame.
She wasn’t sure how much time passed before she finally gained some control. Rubbing at her face, she grabbed the side of the large bathtub and pulled herself up, and then into it.
As she sat in the bath, it was a long time before she could scrub herself clean. And even then, she did it mechanically. Thoughtlessly.
She felt so empty. So broken.
But when this bath is over, I need to have put my sadness behind me. If I let it, it’ll consume me. And then I’ll never find out how I lost my wings, or how to get them back.
Yet, she gave herself a few more minutes to mourn her soul-shattering loss. A few precious moments to bandage herself back together.
At last, she found the strength of will to climb out of the bath and dry herself. She dressed slowly, finding that the clothing fit her almost perfectly, which seemed odd. She saw that food waited on a tray near her bed, but she didn’t touch it, as hungry as she was. Instead, she picked up her feather, stroking its softness with her fingertip.
What now?
She stood in the center of the room staring without seeing.
I need something to help me pull myself out of this grief.
Moving to the balcony, her gaze was drawn to the lush gardens of the estate and beyond them to the lights of the city. What will I find out there? She clung to her black feather as if it could somehow protect her from the unknown world.
“Are you feeling better?”
The deep voice startled her and she spun, gripping her feather protectively.
Mark studied her from the doorway with a small smile.
His smile meant everything. It drew her from her sadness, awakening a warmth inside her that was surprising. She clung to the feeling, like a torch in the darkness.
The stranger was handsome, but when he smiled, he was breathtaking. The kind of man women would throw themselves at. A man like him must have a wife, or a girlfriend. She was surprised by the rush of jealousy the thought brought. He didn’t belong to her.
So why do I feel like he should?
Hesitantly, she returned his smile, taking the time to really look at him. His hair was light brown and messy,
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