The Devil's Warrior Queen-Chapter 243: Lonely Angel

Malika leaning on the rails, gave out a downbeat sigh as she watched Zamiel fly away, the pressure from his powerful wings made the air ripple with his foreboding energy, the castle ground and walls shaking.

At that moment, she suddenly realized her wing had disappeared, making her twirl around as she glanced above her shoulders. She suddenly missed it, it was beautiful indeed. The thought that she could fly made her heart accelerate with excitement, but she felt a gaping hole of emptiness without Zamiel’s presence.

With a glum countenance, she went into the room. Peeling her clothes off, she took a warm bath and clad herself in new clothes, while she waited patiently for Zamiel.

Sitting on the balcony, she looked out into the castle grounds as servants did their menial work, while the women tattled, springing rrumorsamidst the work they were carrying out.

She was well aware they had heard about her and lord Zamiel, including her ancestral bloodline, they were sure to spread the rumours like a wildfire. She wasn’t hearing it, but she knew what they were capable of, also after hearing it from Madam Eleanor, it wasn’t so surprising anymore.

Picking a book from the small pile of ones on the table, she started reading while the airy breeze blew on the balcony, the faint chatters emanating from the servants below adding as a backdrop to the serenity.

As the book piqued her interest and she silently read, her mind kept traveling to the previous night and she would hiss in mortification when she remembered her shameless moans, but amidst the embarrassment she felt, her heart flustered when she vividly reminisced on their intimate liaison in the mountains.

Hiding her face in the unfurled book, she would giggle and blush as she squirmed in her seat, a wide grin tearing through her face but then in the next second, she would cough awkwardly while putting the book down with a straight face as she glanced around as if someone had seen her.

Suddenly, a strange display transpired before her as her gaze momentarily dropped on the small array of flowers suddenly shooting out from the earth as their growth intensified, the flowers blooming and the vines crawling around the rails as their growth amplified.

Startled, she jerked out of her seat as she watched in wonder and confusion as the flowers bloomed and the petals gleamed with an ethereal glow, but when she crouched down to examine it carefully, she saw faint golden wisps dance around the edges of the petals.

"What?" She muttered to herself as she looked at her hands, only to see barely perceptible golden wisps dancing around the edge of her fingertips.

The realization suddenly dawned on her that it were her powers stimulating the unnatural growth of the flowers, but what she couldn’t understand was why her powers were suddenly been provoked out.

Her eyes widened when she remembered that strong emotions evoked her powers and earlier she had been in a state of excitement.

With a small smile adorning her cheerful face, she watched as the flowers stretched out and bloomed, taking an ethereal form in the celestial essence surrounding them.

Noticing how rapid their growth was fast becoming, alert etched on her face knowing they wouldn’t stop growing until she stopped it herself, she wondered if she was excited to that extent.

Stretching her hands toward the flowers, a soft golden sheen enveloped them, reversing its growth and it suddenly ebbed in size as the flowers retracted until it reached a standard proportion.

Sighing, she retreated back to her seat as she continued reading. As time dwindled and the skies slowly darkened, the gaping hole of emptiness in her heart expanded in size with Zamiel’s absence.

Having waited for hours without any sign of his presence made her countenance glum with every passing second and her heart weighed with the heavy feeling of longing, she wondered if he felt the same way.

Standing at the balcony, she greeted the world with the sight of a lonely angel as the wind whipped past her body, making her seem even more ethereal as her gown billowed to the indiscernible tempo of the evening breeze and her golden locks flawlessly flailed behind her.

She was lonely, but not because she was alone, It was the ache in her heart, the yearning for her mate, Zamiel. A demon of formidable strength and mesmerizing allure, Zamiel was the other half of her soul, the one whose absence left an indelible void within her.

As she turned the pages of the ancient book, her thoughts constantly drifted to Zamiel. She missed the feeling of his touch, the warmth of his embrace that sent tingles through her celestial form and the smell of his cologne that she had imbued in her mind.

His lips, a tantalizing blend of heaven and hell, possessed an intoxicating allure that lingered in her memories. The way he would brush his lips against hers, ignited a passion that consumed both their beings.

In the solitude of her balcony sanctuary, Malika closed her eyes, allowing her mind to wander freely to the moments they had shared. She remembered the way Zamiel would caress her wings, each touch a symphony of tenderness and desire. His fingers would trace the delicate feathers, evoking sensations that transcended the boundaries of their dual existence.

The bond between them was not just one of physical intimacy; it ran deeper, entwining their souls in an unbreakable connection. They were two halves of a whole, completing each other in a world where their union was deemed forbidden.

As she continued to read, the words on the pages blurred, replaced by images of Zamiel’s rugged charm and the intensity in his eyes when he gazed upon her. His absence weighed heavily on her heart, a constant ache that no amount of time or distance could alleviate.

The distant echoes of the castle’s bustling life reached her ears, reminding her of the responsibilities she carried as a being straddling two worlds. But in this fleeting moment, on the balcony where time seemed to stand still, Malika allowed herself to succumb to the longing for her demon mate.

Resting her face lazily on her palm, she looked out at the sky which was fast turning dark as a dark greyish hue cloaked it, oddly watching the skies go dark unnerved her, it felt different in a sort of foreboding sense.

It was an odd feeling so strong that she found hard to ignore, her angelic instincts seemed to prick her on a strange occurrence which she was unaware of, making her prudent until she sensed a dark, chilling energy behind her with a soft whoosh.

Aware that something was behind her, her heart pace suddenly spiked up, not because she was afraid but because the melancholic entity behind her elicited it, making her immobile for a second.

Turning around with rushed movement, her body quivered when her eyes locked into the dreary ones of the enigmatic being standing in front of her. The way his form blended with the darkness terrified her beyond words.

"W-Who are you?" She stuttered with a barely audible voice.

"Everyone knows me, I’m the first fallen angel, but you can call me Lucifer." His voice, a velvet-soft cadence, dripped with honeyed promises and cunning allure, weaving tales of power and fulfillment that tempted even the most steadfast hearts.

Her mouth opened, but the words stuck in her throat like glue.

Cloaked in a shroud of enthralling yet melancholic allure, he stood as an entity that strikes fear into the hearts of mortals, possessing an otherworldly countenance that both captivates and terrifies.

Atop his towering height, the Devil stood with an imposing presence, casting an eerie silhouette against the walls of her chambers. His lean, muscular frame draped in regal, expensive black attire exuded an air of dark sophistication and authority. The fabric whispered with every subtle movement, hinting at the silent power that courses through him.

Long strands of midnight-black hair cascade down his broad shoulders, seeming to dance in the faintest whisper of wind, framing a visage that is both haunting and mesmerizing.

His features, carved with an uncanny symmetry, possess unsettling beauty that drew unwitting gazes.

The way he stared at her as he waited for her to speak unnerved her, she wanted nothing more than to disappear from his sight, preferably fly away.

His golden eyes, shimmering like molten gold, held an enigmatic depth, an abyss that seemed to reflect the sins and desires of those who dared to meet his gaze, they were devoid of a soul, as empty as a chasm of nothingness.

The Devil’s presence was an intricate web of allure and foreboding. His charm was a dangerous melody, enchanting those who fall under its sway, weaving whispers of temptation into the very fabric of their souls. Yet, this enchantment carried with it an undertone of sorrow, a melancholic aura that hints at the weight of countless ages, laden with regrets and lost aspirations.

Though his appearance was regal and refined, the Devil was the embodiment of malevolence. He was the insidious whisperer, the manipulator of destinies, and the architect of downfall.

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