FALLEN ANGE’EL
Morgan stood up and walked around the room, enjoying the colourful art. Women—glorious, beautiful, strong women—battling men and dragons. As she followed what seemed to be a story line across the wall, she gasped and took a step back. In front of her was a picture of Gabriel, wearing black chain mail armour that didn’t defend him against the sword that was being pushed through his heart by another warrior. The artwork also showcased a massive dragon flying away from the two men.
Morgan composed herself and stepped forward to take a closer look at the details of the painting. It was Gabriel, she was sure of it, and her heart sank as she looked at the patch of blood on her lover’s chest. He wore an eye patch covering his left eye; his head pulled back in pain as the sword we
