Fallen Angel: An Urban Fantasy Reverse Harem Bully Romance (Dark Hearts Academy Book 1)

by Clara Connors

  Despite getting thrown into a tree like he was nothing more than a rag doll, Azael was back on his feet in the blink of an eye. Belial rushed him again but this time Azael was ready for him.

  As the winged man came within striking distance, Azael sidestepped him and grabbed one of his huge leathery wings. Using it as leverage, Azael spun Belial around and slammed him into the same tree Belial had hurled him against.

  “Stop it!” I screamed, fear clawing at my throat as I watched them attempt to tear each other apart.

  Sweat glistened on Azael’s forehead as he raised his silvery eyes to mine and locked gazes with me.

  “This is how we train, Harper.”

  I glanced over at Belial who had staggered back to his feet, blood trickled from the corner of his mouth but he swiped it away with the back of his hand. Darkness glittered in his eyes but there was also a spark of something akin to joy lurking beneath.

  “I’m not really hurt,” Belial said. “I will heal.”

  “You’re not hurt yet,” Azael said. A large staff appeared in his hands as though he had conjured it from the air itself.

  I scrubbed at my eyes. Was I imagining everything?

  Belial rushed Azael again. He raised his hand and from the air another staff appeared. It was a little different to Azael’s in that one end of it was adorned by a razor sharp blade.

  Belial brought the staff down in a wide sweeping arc and Azael raised his own above his head. The moment the weapons struck I felt the blow reverberate up through my feet and into my chest. The force knocked the air from my lungs and I leaned back into the strength of the large oak at my back.

  The men fought like their lives depended on it. Each one striking and defending against the other. Belial drew first blood with his blade tipped spear. Dark blood bloomed against the side of Azael’s white T-shirt and my heart climbed into my throat.

  Azael wasted no time in responding to his brother’s strike. Whipping his staff around he swept Belial’s feet from beneath him and before striking him across the jaw with a blow that would have broken the skull of a human. I expected Belial to collapse, I could practically feel the pain for him as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth but he laughed the blow off as though it were nothing more than a love tap.

  By the time they had finished sparring both men were sweating and bloodied. Azael tugged his white T-shirt off over his head, exposing a muscular torso. Beads of sweat glistened on his tanned body and I watched one droplet trickle down over his six-pack toward the top of loose grey jogging bottoms. I chewed my lip and glanced away as Azael caught me staring.

  “Do you want to train?” he asked, striding through the leaves toward me.

  “Like you two just did, no thanks.”

  Azael’s laughter caught me off guard, the rich baritone rumble spread heat through my chest and I found myself wishing I could hear him laugh more often.

  “I don’t mean I would train you the same way as Belial and I do. But I could teach you some basic defence moves.”

  As he spoke I remembered the way the angel had attacked me in the alley. Perhaps if I had known how to properly defend myself then the battle might have turned out a little differently.

  He reached one large hand out toward me, his gaze gentle as he stared down at me.

  “I won’t let you get hurt,” he said. “I promise.”

  I took his outstretched hand tentatively and let him pull me to my feet.

  He pulled me in against his body, turning me so that my back was pressed to his chest. The scent of his skin enveloped me, rich spices and musk. Azael’s scent reminded me of the desert, hot sunshine that beat down on you from above. He was the complete antithesis to Belial.

  His hands slid down from my shoulders to my forearms. He raised my arms from my sides and held them up in front of my body.

  “I think we’ll start with the staff,” he said. Each word rumbled from his chest and I felt it reverberate through my spine, spreading warmth to my limbs.

  He turned my hands over and from the air materialised a wooden staff. It was shorter than the one he and Belial had used to fight each other.

  “Hold it like this.” As he spoke he positioned my hands on the smooth timber. He curled his hands over mine, keeping the pinned in place.

  “Relax, Harper, let me teach you.” I let my muscles slacken, letting go some of the tension that kept my body taut.

  I melted in against his body and the feel of his body as he moulded to mine was a heady experience.

  “Belial will strike the first blow and you’ll defend.”

  Fear curled around my spine as I watched Belial approach. He moved sinuously, swinging and twirling the staff in front of his body as though it were just an extension of his body.

  He swung the staff around and brought it down against the staff I still gripped. At the moment before his staff struck mine, he pulled his strength so that his staff only touched mine.

  Azael pushed his hip against mine, forcing my right leg forward. At the same time he thrust my right arm up, forcing Belial to pivot to the side. Azael’s maneuvering of me forced Belial’s staff off mine and I let Azael sweep my arm down bringing the staff in toward Belial’s side. Belial defended and pushed me back, trapping me between both men.

  My breath came in small heaving gasps as their combined heat scorched my skin and my heart rate shot up.

  Belial stared down at me, the fire in his gaze made my knees weak and I longed for him to drop his staff so that there would be nothing at all between us.

  With Azael pressed behind me, I felt his desire as it grew. Without thinking, I pushed back against him tearing a harsh gasp rom his lips and his hands tightened over mine.

  “Harper.” Azael’s voice was ragged as he pulled the staff back pinning it just below my breasts, so that his hands were pressed to either side of my ribs.

  Belial’s hand cupped my cheek, turning my head towards him as he dipped his head to mine.

  His kiss was all ice as his lips crushed mine. When his tongue slid over my lips I opened to him and he slid inside. He nipped at my lips and I groaned. I longed to wrap my hands around his neck, to draw him closer to me to feed from his power. I could feel it thrumming just beneath his skin calling to me. It would be so easy to give in and—

  Azael jerked me away from Belial, sending me stumbling backwards with the staff still clutched in my hands.

  Belial came after me, his eyes blazing as he crossed the space and I could see reflected there just what he intended. In my mind I had an image of all three of us, our naked bodies tangled together in the leaves.

  Azael moved in front of me, blocking Belial’s progress.

  “What are you doing?” There was a heat to Belial’s voice as he rounded on his brother.

  “I’m doing what must be done.” Azael’s voice was clipped as though it was taking every ounce of his strength not to simply give in and join his brother in taking me.

  Belial crashed into Azael and the two men hit the ground. Gone was the laughter and joy I’d seen earlier as they had sparred and in its place was a much more serious battle.

  “Stop it,” I said, my voice choked by unshed tears.

  Azael struck Belial in the jaw before planting his feet in the abdomen of the other man. He kicked, shoving Belial hard and sending him airborne.

  Belial’s wings snapped open and he dived back toward Azael.

  “Please, stop!” My voice rang out but it was useless. They had eyes only for each other.

  “You would keep her all to yourself,” Belial said. “Cranter and Jeckel are right, you’re going to steal her right out from under us all.”

  “Anything we do with her while we remain unclaimed gives those goons the right to demand the same from her. I won’t do that to her, Belial, and if you were thinking straight Brother, you wouldn’t either.”

  Azael’s words seemed to penetrate and Belial landed in front of Azael. His eyes still blazed but some of the heat that had been the
re moments before had fled.

  “What are you saying?”

  Azael sighed. “I’m saying if we give in now…” He turned and shot me a longing look. “If drink of her body—of her power—before she has chosen us, then Jeckel and Cranter will demand the same treatment.”

  “She doesn’t want them,” Belial said, sounding uncertain. “They know it. They can sense it.”

  “It won’t matter,” Azael answered. “The Brotherhood’s laws are clear. Only those who have been claimed have a right to claim. As much as Harper might want us right now if we take advantage of those feelings the others will hold her down and take the same.”

  Belial’s skin turned ashen. “Like before…”

  Azael nodded. “The Sons of Night don’t care if their consort is willing or not.”

  I swallowed hard. Just how close had I come to ruination?

  Pain lanced through my stomach and I dropped to the leafy carpet. I dug my fingers into the dirt as the pain came again, this time intense enough to draw a low moan from me.

  The forest faded and I realised I was gripping the rubber mats and not a fistful of leaves.

  Azael’s arms wrapped around me, scooping me up from my position on the floor as another wave of agony rocked me.

  “Harper,” he said, tilting me so I was forced to meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?” There was panic in his voice as he cradled me and I opened my mouth to answer him but all I could manage was a ragged scream.

  Breaking free of his grip, I threw myself toward the door, tripping over the bottom step as wave after wave of fear and pain washed over me. My vision was clouded with red mist and I scrubbed my hands across my face as though that action alone could clear my sight.

  The second I broke free of Azael, the pain I’d been feeling intensified until it was almost a fever pitch. There was something else too, the feeling of something being missing slammed into me like a wrecking ball, leaving me breathing hard.

  “What’s wrong?” Azael asked, beginning to move in my direction. I raised a hand and waved him back.

  “Please, no.” I moaned, balling my hands into fists.

  “What’s wrong with her?” He turned his attention on Belial, the barely concealed rage in his voice bathing the room in its scalding heat. “What did you do to her?”

  “It’s not him,” I said, catching my breath. “Something is wrong… something missing and hurt.” I shrugged helplessly, unable to explain it.

  “She brought one over,” Belial said, his voice low and urgent.

  “She what?” Azael’s voice cut through the fog of pain that closed around me.

  “That’s not possible,” Azael said. “There hasn’t been a fall in four millennia.”

  “And we didn’t think we would find her either,” Belial argued back as he pointed in my direction.

  “In English please,” I said, dropping back onto the edge of the bed.

  “The first Nephilim had the abilities to cause other angels to fall,” Azael said. “Against their will. They were wiped out because the power was deemed too dangerous to posses.”

  “The stranger in my apartment,” I said, the moment I remembered him, I felt the thread between us snap taught. And at the other end of the line I felt him calling out to me. Hurt and alone.

  “What happens to those who are forced to fall?” I asked, certain I wasn’t going to like the answer.

  “They became unstable,” Azael said.

  “They were soulless killing machines,” Belial said, and when Azael looked at him he shrugged. “She needs to know the truth. She’s been kept in the dark for too long.”

  “What else?” I prompted, knowing they were keeping something else from me.

  “They became the first demons,” Azael said, meeting my gaze head on. “Those who survived the fall, killed their creators, eating their still beating hearts from their chest. They were hunted by other angels and killed. Others were rejected by those who caused them to fall and cast into the pit.”

  “He wouldn’t hurt me,” I said. “I can feel him, he needs me but he wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “His only true purpose now will be to find you so he can…” Azael trailed off.

  “And if he doesn’t find me?”

  “His growing desperation could drive you mad,” Belial said.

  “Great, screwed if I do, and screwed if I don’t.” I buried my face in my hands as another wave of agony rolled through me. Grinding my teeth, I let out another agonised scream. I waited for the pain to subside before I spoke again.

  “This isn’t right,” I said. “I think he’s being tortured.” I panted, sweat beading on my forehead.

  “You are still human, what is happening to him will kill you,” Azael said, brushing his hand over my forehead, pushing my hair back from my face. “If you accept us as yours, it will save you.”

  His words drew a bitter laugh past my lips. I doubled over, wrapping my arms around my knees as my laughter grew more hysterical with every passing moment. From the corners of my eyes I could see the two men exchanging worried glances with one another.

  The laughter didn’t stop but it rapidly turned to tears, and within moments my shoulders heaved with sobs as I lay on the cold stone floor. Everything had gone so wrong. If I didn’t give up everything I was, give up everything I knew then I would die. How could I claim another being as my own? It seemed barbaric and yet… Azael believed that claiming him and Belial and in turn being claimed as theirs would somehow magically fix everything else.

  When had life become so bloody complicated?

  An alarm sounded in the room, cutting off my voice abruptly. I raised my face as another wave of pain spread through me, making me feel as though every nerve ending in my body was on fire.

  “He’s here,” Azael said, turning to Belial.

  A roar that resembled that of a wounded animal echoed through the academy and the place seemed to shake on its very foundations as something heavy slammed into the building. Dust drifted down from the rafters as another jolt hit the place.

  “If he’s here, I need to go to him,” I said, pushing onto my feet, the constant pain made my knees knock as I tried to scramble up the stairs.

  “You will die,” Azael said, catching my hand in his.

  “If I don’t help him, he’s going to die,” I said, reluctantly pulling free of his hold.

  The decision to go to the one who called out to me gave me a strength I didn’t know I had. And I crossed the floor faster than Azael or Belial anticipated. Racing up the stairs, I reached the hall that led to the dormitories before either of them could catch up to me.

  The only thought that echoed in my head as I ran was that I needed to get to the one who needed me.

  He was mine and they were killing him.

  I couldn’t let them take what was mine from me.

  14

  I reached the gallery that overlooked the marble foyer of the great hall. It took a moment for my eyes to focus on the scene before me.

  The creature that had chased me down the alley, the dark shape with the glowing golden eyes that had tried to kill me was dragging itself across the marble floor, leaving a smear of glittering blood in its wake.

  From where I stood, it looked like some kind of wolf, only much much larger. The head, which was as big as I was, swung around in my direction. It captured me with its golden eyes, its gaze penetrating me as recognition flared to life. The wolf’s ears flattened on his head and a low whine escaped his muzzle.

  He moved toward me, dragging his back legs after him. He let out a snarling growl as a tall blonde woman stabbed a golden spear into his side. Blood like glittering rubies spilled from the wound down over his black fur.

  “Stop!” I shrieked. Throwing myself forward, I bounded down the stairs. There was a metallic taste in my mouth that increased as she ripped the golden spear out of the wolf’s body.

  She turned toward me, her bright green eyes illuminated from within and I cringed as a pair of golden
tipped wings erupted from behind her. She moved fast. Fast enough that I couldn’t slow my progress and she brought the butt of her spear up in an arc. It struck me just below the chin and stars exploded in my head. My mouth snapped shut and I stumbled backwards, my legs collapsing out from beneath me.

  Blood pooled in my mouth and I felt it trickle down from the corner of my lips. As I hit the cold ground the hall spun in sickening circles. Pulling myself onto my hands and knees, I fought to climb back onto my feet. A man—broad shouldered and beautiful in that Greek statue kind of way—wrapped his hand in my hair and dragged me upright. The golden haired woman who had struck me sneered. “Nephilim,” she said, practically spitting the word as she stalked toward me.

  I twisted in the grip of the man who held me but his hold was unrelenting. Upon reaching me, the woman closed her fist around my throat and hoisted me from the floor. “I’ve always wanted to kill a Nephilim,” she said. No sooner had the words left her mouth than I found myself airborne.

  She thrust me into the air like I was some kind of flightless bird.

  My arms wind milled uselessly as I flew through the air, gravity kicked in and I plummeted toward the marble.

  Raising my hands in front of my face, I braced for the impact of the cool marble floor but it never came. Instead, I landed with a thud against something warm and soft.

  Opening my eyes and I discovered I was surrounded by the soft black fur of the wolf creature. Despite his injuries he’d moved to intercept my fall, saving me with his body. He whined, his body trembling as I slid to the floor and ran my hands through his thick coat.

  I could feel the wound in his side, a deep gash caused by the wickedly sharp spear of the female angel. The wolf rolled his golden eyes up toward me and as though his injuries were mine a gasp of pain ripped through me.

  “I won’t let them hurt you anymore,” I said, digging my fingers into his coat. I willed him to heal, for the steady flow of his blood that spilled out onto his dark fur to stop.