Chapter 1

Alyssa

I come from a long line of vampires. I'm the princess of the darkness, who longs to walk in the sun, but I keep to the shadows since the beautiful glimmering light would kill me.

Walking out at night isn't a problem, though. And tonight, my heart clenched too much to stick around after dinner. As usual, my father wouldn't leave me alone—I left as soon as he preached about my duties as the princess.

My father thinks he can control me, which has inspired me to climb out through my bedroom window more often these days. Fresh air is needed when you have spent decades in a house with more rules than you can count on one hand.

Hunching my shoulders, I duck under a tree branch to keep walking through the magical forest. Blue lights are dancing in the air; we call them will-o-wisps. My mother has told me to stay away from them—she claims they love to collect lost souls; meanwhile, my grandma says they are here to lead us to our fate.

Fate, that word makes me wrinkle my nose in loathing. My father wants me to marry Fabian, the vampire prince of another kingdom, but I don't want to marry the cocky brute who lives for the fight.

Fabian doesn't understand all life has meaning—the male vampire is too mean and doesn't mind drinking blood for the fun of it all. His kind is the reason we vampires have a terrible reputation.

My mood turns dark as I keep on trudging forward through the moss with my white dress stroking my knees. Then, like a quiet wind, I press on towards a clearing. Once there, I stomp the ground while pretending it's Fabian's smirking face I'm destroying.

It feels good to let out some steam. So I play around for a while but stop dead in my tracks once I catch sight of a creature I never expected to see out in the forest—an angel.

Ancient instincts and hatred for the much larger, more beautiful race get to my sharp canines, drawing blood from my lower lip. A hiss escapes my throat, causing the enormous creature to spread its wings as a defense mechanism. The action causes leaves to soar down from the surrounding trees, but the beast is still lying on the ground.

Usually, angels wouldn't hesitate to attack a vampire while in their proper dangerous form; angels can shape-shift into humans to blend into society. But this one is as long as a mountain range and gleaming like the morning star itself.

And since I've seen the angel, I wouldn't expect the impressive creature to let me keep on living; its hands are large enough to engulf me and crush my lungs within seconds.

Angels are also known for hating my kind since vampires hunt humans. In contrast, angels exist to protect them; we are opposites of each other.

So why hasn't this one attacked me yet? And what is an angel doing out here in the magical forest?

Suspicion circles my mind. Angels usually never enter our territory; they are creatures of the light, born to rule the sky with their mighty, feathered wings.

Another question pops into my mind: Why is this angel on the ground?

Despite the bell of danger tolling in my mind, I dare take a step closer to the literally fallen angel.

Glowing skin, bare for the eye to see, and ethereal beauty brings tears to my eyes. But, it's dangerous to study this beautiful creature for too long, and if you fall in love with them, you will die if the feeling isn't mutual.

And I definitely shouldn't approach this one; my people are in a constant war with them. I could get hanged by my strict father for simply staring at one because it's forbidden in our house to approach them. It's also illegal to lead them closer to our kind or give them a hint about where we live.

Our castle is hidden to the untrained eye, but if angels knew where to throw a revealing spell, my bloodline would be nothing but a memory—the angels wouldn't let us live.

"Don't come closer, vampire!"

I freeze, captivated by the young, melodic voice of the winged creature; it seems the mighty angel is a male. Is he a teenager or a young adult?

Licking my lips, I taste the air and laugh at what the universe has brought me—I might not know his age, but the angel is injured.

"You're hurt." My voice is low, not malicious or mean. I'm not here to make enemies, and while I'm not fond of angels, I don't think a single heartbeat is meaningless; every life holds meaning. "I can help you."

The angel snorts at me, definitely not interested in letting me get anywhere close to his blood or body.

"And how would you do that? Are you going to carry me to the nearest hospital? You would die if you tried; in my eyes, you're nothing but an ant! A filthy bloodsucker! Vermin!"

His words cut me deep, but I quickly recover—I'm used to people believing I'm a monster.

"Let me help you." My tone is calm.

The angel is hissing at me; it's in his blood to hate me, a bone-deep instinct. "How?"

I ponder my answer, telling him I'm the princess of the night would explain everything; my blood holds certain powers, most people have heard of me.

Then again, giving him my identity could also prove dangerous—his hands are large enough to choke all oxygen from my lungs. Facing an angel is difficult and usually not a very fair fight.

Sighing, I decide to trust him; without my blood, he will die—I can smell his weakening state from here.

"Do you trust me?" I ask.

Another snort. "You're a vampire; I would never trust your bloodthirsty kind!"

Rolling my eyes, I walk past his enormous leg. I don't even flinch when his large, storm cloud-colored wings flap in the air; he is trying to frighten me, but I'm walking with purpose.

His porcelain skin is smooth and creamy, and I try to ignore the enchanting glow coming from within him. Blonde hair covers his head, and I silently sit down next to his muscular neck that seems more robust than a bridge, able to withstand the weight of countless men.

Sudden fright enters my chest as I watch his muscles twitch, but I choke it down, determined to help the angel even if he faces the other way. Then, looking up, I discover his pointed ear twitching; he knows I'm close.

"Ouch, you're in worse shape than I thought," I tell him with mild amusement etched into my voice. Saving an angel goes against everything my kind believes in—I find it ironic that his life rests in my hands. Luckily for the angel, I fiercely believe every life is worth saving, including his. "What a shame the angel doesn't want my help; I could save his life."

The angel hisses at me threateningly. "I don't need anyone to save me!"

I roll my eyes again; typical men and their unwillingness to let anyone help them never cease to amaze me.

"Are you always this friendly and approachable?" I tease, hoping to lighten the mood. I've never met an angel before, but certainly, they all can't be as grumpy as this one.

"Friendly?" The angel sounds insulted, but strangely enough, I can also detect a tiny amount of amusement in his voice. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to?"

"Nope." I give him an earnest answer. "Are you famous?"

"Something like that," the angel mutters. "And I still don't want your help; I can handle myself."

Silently, I let my eyes roam his chest. His breaths are slow, and I glare at the spears and arrows digging into his skin. Blood trickles down his waist, pooling on the ground beneath him, and I glance away, afraid my instincts will weaken my resolve to save him.

"You need to swallow my blood." My voice is stern, determined. I might look like a teenager, but I've been around for decades; I know how to sound like an authority. "Or else you're going to bleed to death."

The angel shifts on the ground and I tilt my head when a pair of large angry eyes find mine—they are the color of violet crystals and shimmering like the stars. A slight blush covers my skin. Drowning in his pools of charm seems like a possibility. Still, I remind myself to stay focused and not fall victim to the angel's surreal beauty.

"You're the vampire princess." His words are a statement, and I swallow thickly when a thousand thoughts seem to flicker past his eyes. "I've heard a lot about you."

I tilt my head to study the fascinating gleam in his eyes; I might have found my new favorite color. "Is that so?"

The angel regards me with intelligent eyes. I wonder what he is thinking. He couldn't possibly be planning on kidnapping me. I'm here to save his life; he should be grateful.

Suddenly, the angel nods thoughtfully, smiling darkly at nothing at all. "People say your blood can heal any disease; some call it a miracle while others think you're a goddess,"

A smile latches itself to my lips. I like how my new friend pronounced goddess as if the statement held some truth. "And what do you think?"

Amusement rumbles from the angel's throat, and a telltale smirk spreads on his lips. "I think little of your kind; last time I checked, all vampires were evil, but maybe you're a missionary sent to change my opinion?"

Smiling, I question whether his voice held a flirtatious tone or if it was simply wishful thinking. The angel looks like sex-on-a-stick, and being stuck in an eighteen-year-old body has left me rather desperate. The boy I used to date outgrew me, but the angel seems to be around my age.

"Maybe," I tell him, letting my voice take on a playful tone. "Regardless of who I am, you need my blood, or you will never find out."

The angel doesn't seem happy, but he is not trying to scare me away; now is the best time to approach him.

Determinedly, I try to look past his size, remind myself he is a person, and lift my arm to his lush lips. Hesitation is written on his face as I lean my more delicate body against his rough chin, but I give him an assuring smile.

"Bite me," I tell him boldly while letting him support my entire weight; even his face is enormous. "It won't hurt me; I'm a vampire whose injury will heal within minutes."

I think the angel is unused to people touching him; uncertainty glimmers in his eyes as I lean further into him. Even fear flickers past his features, which I find funny since the angel seems built for war.

Is he nervous?

He shouldn't be nervous around me. I'm a nobody while he looks like combat himself. Ropes of muscle cover his entire body, and it's not helping that he is only wearing a pair of jeans; it's hard not to stare at him. I'm already appreciating his angled jaw and the curling strands of blonde hair covering his head.

The angel laughs suddenly, and it warms the features of his face until he no longer looks like a supervillain. His dark eyebrows knit together. "This is the first time a vampire is offering their blood instead of wanting mine,"

Flutters travel in my veins upon hearing the friendlier tone in his voice. I squint my eyes in an attempt to force it out, nodding at the vampire weapons, drawing blood from his glowing skin. "Is that why my kind attacked you?"

"Probably."

Guilt passes through me like a chilly wind. My kind indeed hunts angels for their blood, they are stronger and more extensive than us, but our armies got them outnumbered. Angels usually keep to themselves and travel alone. They have mates like our kind, but they don't get to choose their partner by marking their neck as vampires do.

I press my arm against his sharp teeth, wincing in pain when blood drips down on his tongue.

Immediately, I withdraw my hand and stalk back towards the proud, giant oak tree standing behind me. Inhaling, I press my back against the tree trunk, eyes curiously studying the glow that turns brighter in the clearing—angel boy is recovering.

The angel sits up with incredible speed and stares down at the weapons that were previously hurting him. They quickly vanish into thin air due to his magical abilities; my blood probably gave him enough strength to activate them.

I silently watch the angel flick his wrist, taken by his size—he had seemed much smaller while lying down.

"A vampire whose blood can heal any injury... I find it poetic and ironic at the same time," The angel turns to face me, and I shiver under the newly won attention.

Carefully, I crane my neck to stare up into his crystal eyes imbued with interest as he let them roam over me. I feel his gratitude, another ability of mine, and smile when I realize he will not harm me.

"Thank you for saving me." His eyes flicker away from mine as if he can feel my tension, and I watch him curl his toes while smiling to himself. The grumpy, ill-mannered attitude is gone, replaced with wonder. "I'm sorry for doubting you,"

I sink to the ground, wary of the massive wings that are busy knocking leaves into the clearing. "You're welcome."

Slowly, the angel stands up, shooting for the sky while keeping his broad back facing me. His proud wings stretch out, easily rivaling some of the smaller trees that aren't magical.

"May I know your name?"

Smiling, I shake my head. "No, it wouldn't be wise to tell you. I'm not supposed to talk with you, and falling in love is out of the question."

A rumble vibrates through me; the angel is chuckling, making my heartbeat waver by the power in his voice. I bite my lips. Staying with the angel is dangerous—I'm already reacting to his intoxicating scent of roses and melodic voice. Another minute and I might fall victim to his charm.

"I suppose you have a point," the angel murmurs and turns around to grin at me; the sight freezes me on the spot. His beauty is effortless and imbued with magic—I can't peel my eyes away from him. I dumbly stare at him, up at his impressive form; he is darkly handsome, like a painting. "My name is Azrael, and I owe you my life, little vampire."

I'm released from his enchantment when he looks away, finally able to feel oxygen return to my lungs. I've heard of an angel named Azrael, but I can't remember from where.

"Little vampire?" I question and fold my arms beneath my chest with swelling mischief. "For all you know, I might be a tall vampire,"

Azrael turns around with an arched eyebrow; he looks mildly amused as he studies me looking up at him. "Are you?"

I laugh; it's hard keeping a straight face when I can't even reach up to his knees. "Not really,"

The angel briefly freezes. "You're a weird one," Azrael murmurs, with the ghost of a smile on his face. "We will meet again... Little vampire, and I look forward to our next meeting. I find you interesting."

I look up at him and gasp when he throws himself into the cloudless sky, disappearing into the night as if he was never here.

Blinking up at the stars, I question my sanity as tears fall from my wet chin. My heart is pounding against my ribcage. And I know with mortifying certainty that I looked at Azrael for a minute too long—he already stole my heart.