The Last Savior · Book Three
A Fury of Angels
By R. Moses
All rights reserved. Copyright © 2013 by R. Moses
This is a work of fiction, and all names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
She smiled at Sirin and took a heady lungful of the fragrant bloom between them. He inhaled with her, closing his eyes and flexing his wings.
She admired the way he looked immersed in a field of red blooms. She luxuriated in the warm press of the sun on her back, feeling a timeless perfection in this moment with her beloved. Somewhere nearby a child laughed, and she started laughing too. Why not? She felt ridiculously happy and loved, at peace with all of creation...
The word creation caused a warning tickle at the edge of her mind, but she ignored it to admire the highlights the rays brought out in Sirin's hair. She vaguely wondered how long they had been rolling in this field of flowers. A drift of song wafted by them, origin unknown and unquestioned.
Sirin gave her a dreamy smile and asked, “Why are we here?” His brow furrowed and some of the sparkle left his golden eyes. “And where is here?”
Abira dug her elbows a bit further in the rich earth, relishing the loamy smell that her action caused. His question made the slight tickle of discomfort in her mind become an irritating itch.