Unknown
As the first rays of dawn break through the clouds, casting a warm, golden light across the lush meadow, I watch Azrael staring at Ivy with anticipation. There, they stand on the cliff’s edge. She looks different from the last time I saw her; she’s glowing. I suppose that’s not hard when the last time I saw Ivy, she died. But today, her sapphire eyes are shimmering with hope and determination. Her dark hair flows in the gentle breeze, the delicate strands dancing like silk as she flexes her black and white wings. For a Lycan to have wings, Azrael must have marked the girl, essentially making her, just like him, an Angel of Death.
Interesting.
As interesting as that is, it won’t change my plans. It doesn’t bother me that Ivy is linked to Azrael because I will soon change that.
A
