Dark Prince
Alpha Angels Series
Book Two
Levana Hyll
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2010 by Levana Hyll
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Levana Hyll
ISBN-13: 978-1456348816
ISBN-10: 1456348817
Printed in the United States of America
First Edition
For Jenny, Cindy, Frank, and Gil. My number one fan, Colleen Dunphy from writerscafe and all my other Angel-struck followers. I couldn't have done it without you.
Alpha Angels Series:
Fallen Angel
Dark Prince
Coming Soon:
Angel of Retribution
Golden Angel
Dark Angel
Angel of Redemption
Sethaliel
Devon is an archangel, bestowed a divine sword by a Dominatio the day he was born. Raised by Seraph's, love and kindness fill his life. Surrounded by angels he handpicks himself from Edenia's misfits, Devon feels he is in Heaven... until disaster strikes. One minute he's trying to break up a fight between his beloved angels, the next he's being awakened into a realm of hatred and distrust... all aimed at him. Three hundred years have passed in the blink of an eye for him, his angels have disappeared without a trace, and devils call him master now. Why didn't the Seraphs tell him he was a demon... son of the fallen angel, Davariel?
*
Prologue...
Devon awakened with a start. Heart pounding, he turned over in his bed, his hand automatically going to the cold, empty pillow beside his.
She was gone.
He sat up with a sigh, rubbing the heel of his palms over tired eyes, and then looked around. There was a shattered mirror on the floor at the foot of the bed's pedestal, the silver shards gleaming on the black floor. The silver ball that had sat on one of the nightstands was near the door, reflecting the dying flames of the fire pit in the adjacent lounging area. Twenty paces from the bed, the thick glass that held back the vast vacuum of space revealed his reflection, sitting up in the king-sized bed. His skin looked stark white draped in black, satin sheets, and his hair, blacker than both the sheets and space, hung loose about his shoulders.
In a daze, his mind replayed the last fight.
Lillique had screamed, and ranted, slapping and scratching at his flesh until angry welts marked his fair skin like ribbons of pain. He took it all, doing his best to shield himself from the worst of the blows. When she grabbed a handful of his hair and began pulling, ordering him to kneel, he knew he had two choices; remain standing and end up with a painful bald-spot, or obey and let her finish kicking his ass.
His knees hit the floor with a thud as he cringed, waiting for the continued onslaught. Eyes downcast, he could still see her reflection in the glossy floor of their quarters. Coils of reddish-brown hair had fallen across her cinnamon-colored face.
"That's where you belong, you son-of-a-bitch," her voice grated between clenched teeth. "On your knees, at my feet, for everything I've had to endure."
He turned imploring eyes to her. "Lillique, please understand... "
Stars exploded behind his eyes as his hair flew across his face. Pain, searing and bright, throbbed on the left side of his face where she'd slapped him. Automatically, he shielded himself with his arms, tasting blood in his mouth as she continued to scream at him. "I don't want to understand! I hate this space station! I hate your fucking Master Guardians!" To his chagrin, he yelped when she grasped two handfuls of his long hair and yanked his face up an inch away from hers. For a brief second he saw her green eyes gleam as her sneer twisted into a satisfied grin, enjoying the pain she was causing him. Her grip tightened making him wonder if her intention was to rip his hair out completely. "I want you to take us out of here. Renounce the Master Guardians—or so help me, Devon, I will leave and this time it'll be for good!"
If only I were so lucky—he thought miserably to himself. He gripped her hands, holding them still, feeling the burn of his scalp. "Lilli, I-I can't..."
Making an enraged sound, her fingernails came slashing downward with every intention of clawing his eyes out. Devon teleported out in time, leaving her swiping the air. "Lilli, stop," he demanded from the other side of the bed, not knowing what else to do.
Her face contorted into a mask of hatred. "You just want to be near them! Those two whores!"
He ducked just in time as a decorative chrome ball he had on a nightstand by the bed sailed past his head and crashed against the frosted glass partition separating the hygiene room from their sleeping area. Thankfully, the glass was shatter proof. He stood gaping at her, not comprehending the abhorrence she felt toward his Master Guardian sisters. "Shit! Don't call Annie and Rowie that. They're just... "
"Whores!" Her voice sounded shrill in the bedroom. "It's over! I'm done with you, Devon Angelos!"
She stormed out, like so times before, every sting and throb of abuse covering his body reminding him that it wasn't over. It never was.
He closed his eyes running his hands through his mussed hair. This was probably his punishment for having fallen into the wicked ways of the flesh. The Seraphs that raised him warned him against becoming a slave to his desires. With Lillique, he'd sampled every dark aspect of sex, including allowing her to fuck his ass with a dildo. She'd forced him down on his hands and knees, made him open his legs. After a while, much to his shame, he'd found himself tilting his ass higher so she could penetrate him deeper—how she'd laughed at him when he came. The memory alone made him shudder with desire, despite the beating he'd just received.
Devon hung his head feeling his cheeks burn. I'm so pathetic. I deserve to be paddled. He crawled into bed wanting the inevitable over and done with, but was surprised when only silence greeted him upon waking.
He rose from his rumpled bed, the sheets slipping to the floor. His eyes stared for a moment, unseeing, through the glass wall into deep space.
Lillique's screaming voice still echoed in his mind. She didn't understand the responsibility he had as leader of the Master Guardians. He'd even received a divine sword from a Dominatio when he was just an infant, making him an archangel. The winged cherub-like entities rarely bestowed such honors to beings from this realm. Lillique didn't comprehend at all. She'd always said he was stupid, that he needed to be a man. Sometimes he felt as though she were only trying to goad him into feeling anger. All he ever felt was hurt; hurt when she called him names, hurt when she openly flirted with other men, hurt when she had others laughing at him.
He shivered, feeling a tendril of power swirl around him tentatively; questioning, soothing. The others were reaching out to him.