Elara awoke to the sound of rustling fabric. For a moment, she was disoriented, unsure if the events of last night had been a vivid dream. The scent of rain still clung to the air, and the soft light of dawn filtered through the cabin's windows, casting long shadows over the wooden floor.
Then she saw him.
The stranger—the fallen angel—was standing by the window, his back to her. His wings, or what was left of them, hung limply from his shoulders, the dark feathers tattered like the remnants of a forgotten storm. He didn't turn when she stirred, but she could feel the weight of his presence. The air in the room was thick with unspoken tension.
"You should have left me to die," he said quietly, his voice a low, gravelly whisper.
Elara sat up, unsure how to respond. She had spent the better part of the night tending to his wounds, though she had no idea if an ordinary human's care could truly help someone like him. He looked… otherworldly, and his injuries, though severe, seemed to heal faster than they should have.
"Maybe," she finally replied, her voice soft but firm. "But I couldn't."
He turned then, his dark eyes meeting hers. There was no gratitude in his gaze, only a deep, hollow sorrow. "I am not what you think I am," he said. "I am not something you can save."
Elara rose from the bed, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. "Then what are you?"
For a long moment, he said nothing. His expression was unreadable, as if he was struggling to find the right words. But finally, he spoke.
"I was once an angel," he said, his voice distant, as though he was recounting a tale from long ago. "I served the will of heaven. I was pure. Untouched by sin." He paused, his gaze shifting toward the window, watching as the morning mist curled around the trees outside. "But I defied them. I questioned the laws that bound us. And for that, I was cast down."
Elara felt a chill run down her spine. She had always believed in things unseen—forces that moved beyond the veil of the natural world. But hearing the story from his lips made it real in a way that was both terrifying and tragic.
"Why did you fall?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her fear.
His jaw tightened. "I loved a human," he admitted, his eyes darkening with the memory. "It was forbidden. Angels are not meant to love mortals. Our hearts are not made for such things."
Elara's heart clenched. She had heard of such stories in old myths and tales—tragic romances between angels and mortals, always ending in ruin. But she had never thought them real.
"What happened to her?" she asked softly.
"She died," he said, his voice a rough whisper. "And when she was taken from me, I burned the world that had stolen her." His eyes, once hollow, now burned with a fierce, dangerous light. "I swore vengeance against heaven itself."
Elara took a step back, her pulse quickening. The air around him seemed to hum with dark energy, as if the mere memory of his wrath could summon the flames of his past.
"I was not just cast out," he continued, his voice low and filled with bitterness. "I was damned. Stripped of my power, bound to walk the earth as a shadow of what I once was. I will never be forgiven."
The silence that followed was heavy. Elara struggled to process everything he had told her, her mind spinning with the implications. This creature—this fallen angel—was not only dangerous, but tormented by a grief so deep it had driven him to defy the very heavens.
But there was something else, too. Something beneath the anger and sorrow that called to her. A loneliness, perhaps, that mirrored her own.
"You don't have to be alone in this," she said softly, surprising even herself with her words.
He laughed bitterly, a sound without joy. "Alone? I am cursed to be alone, mortal. You can't change that."
Elara took a cautious step toward him. "I don't believe that. You saved me once, didn't you?" She didn't know why she said it, but deep down, something in her felt connected to him—an echo of something she couldn't quite explain.
He frowned, confused. "Saved you?"
Elara nodded, her brow furrowing as she tried to recall a memory buried deep in her past. "I was a child… lost in the woods. I remember being surrounded by shadows, and then a light—a warm light that chased them away." She paused, looking into his eyes. "I saw you then, didn't I?"
For a moment, his gaze softened, as if a distant memory stirred within him. But then his expression hardened once more, and he turned away from her. "You're wrong. I'm not your savior. I'm your curse."
Before Elara could respond, a loud knock echoed through the cabin door. She jumped, her heart racing. She wasn't expecting anyone, especially not at this hour.
The fallen angel's eyes darkened, his muscles tensing as he turned toward the door. "Whoever that is," he muttered, "they've come for me."
Elara felt a cold dread settle over her. "What do you mean?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he moved toward the door, his wings stretching slightly as if preparing for battle. The tension in the room was palpable, and Elara's heart pounded in her chest.
"Stay back," he warned her, his voice deadly serious. "This is not your fight."
But something told Elara that whatever was about to happen, she was already deeply involved. The door creaked open, and in the dim light of the morning, a shadowy figure stood in the doorway, cloaked in darkness.
And with that, her world was about to change forever.
End of Chapter Two.