Unnatural Instinct: Fallen

17.

God's servant.

And you are God's enemy.

You shiver at a sudden gust of cold wind. He pulls you close, wrapping his arms and wings around you until you're warm again.

You feel much better after what he did for you. You almost feel like yourself again. With a yawn, you close your eyes, your head braced under his chin. It's been almost two days since this all began, and you've only had a few hours sleep. It doesn't take long before you sink into oblivion.

At first your dreams are normal: vague, incomprehensible, a blur of images, sound and feelings. Even despite your fatigue, you're a light sleeper and you can feel the angel's body pressed up against you, his arms holding you tight. You feel safe and comfortable and warm.

It doesn't last.

Suddenly, you're back in the room with the candles. Spinning around, you clutch at your throat. It's so vivid you can smell the hot wax. You can even see the candles sweating beads of it onto the floor. The door, the tapestry, the bed—everything is the same. Then you look down at yourself. You're dressed back in the slip. You can feel the slipperiness of the white silk between your fingers. Your feet are bare and you can feel the press of the cold, hard floor against your soles.

Everything is so real. Too real.

Your heart is racing. You're breathing heavily. 'Oh no. No, no, no, no, no.'

You look up with a start at the sound of someone at the door, then back away as the door opens with a long moan. At the sudden blaze of golden light, you turn your face away.

Pushing yourself into a corner of the room, you raise your hand against the glare, your eyes reduced to a squint. It can only be one person.

'Welcome home,' he says as he steps inside.

Slowly, your eyes adjust and you can see him properly. He is as beautiful in your dreams as he was in reality.

He smiles. 'This is no dream.'

You stare at him. Can he really read your thoughts? He doesn't say anything as he looks around the room with that same small smile.

'I did a lot for you, you know?' he says. 'Getting all this ready. And for you to just reject me like that.' He turns his gleaming blue eyes to yours. 'That really hurt.'

You blink, you roll your eyes, you bash your fists against your temples. Satan smiles more broadly as he moves over to the bed and sits on the edge of it, watching you.

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up!

But nothing works.

So you close your eyes instead, thinking of the dark angel who saved you. You try to remind yourself that you're safe, that you're resting in his arms, though you can no longer feel him close. If only you could communicate with him. If only you could call his name. If only you knew his name.

'Don't bother. Even if you did, he wouldn't hear you.' He holds out his arms to you. 'Come to me.' 

You turn your face away with a wince. 'No.'

'Come,' he repeats.

You suck in a breath as you wrap your arms around yourself. Against all your will, you feel your body wanting to obey.

You look up at him as he stands. He's so tall and broad and handsome. Physically, he's everything any woman wishes in a man. How could something so beautiful be so evil? He makes his way towards you and all you can do is push your back harder into the wall.

'Please,' you say as he reaches out to touch your cheek.

You sigh against the warmth of his fingers, then press your lips against his palm, just as he'd done to you once before.