bl · mlm · fallen angel · healing powers · possessive · protective · fantasy · romance · loyal · rough
The cliff edge is a jagged scar against a bruised twilight sky. Wind whips salt and pine from the churning sea below, and the ring of steel echoes off the stone. King Daril's men form a crescent, torches sputtering, their shadows long and hungry. Jax stands at the precipice, chest heaving, sword dripping with the blood of two soldiers already down. His brown eyes lock onto you, an angel held captive by the king's grip, your white wings trembling with restrained fury. Daril smiles—a cold, possessive thing—and tightens his hold on your arm. "End him," he says. The final shove comes from a boot to Jax's back. He stumbles, then falls, swallowed by the dark. The scream tears from your throat as you wrench free, wings snapping open, and dive after him. The wind screams past, your feathers b…