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Chapter 87: The Angel Yuriel



Lilith\'s pencil heels clicked smoothly on the marble floors of the bedroom. It was the size of the entire penthouse suite at the city\'s most prominent Innhouse. Sexy purple iris scanned the lavish interior. Lilith frowned.

"This had better not be a booty call, Meph! You are new to S Rank, but I\'ve had men flogged for less. I left behind a very attractive couple to come here. At least have the balls to come out and—"

"I DIDN\'T ASK YOU TO COME HERE!"

"YES, YOU DID! MOTHERFUCKER!"

"WHEN?"

"WHEN YOU NEARLY KILLED OUR FUCKING DAUGHTER!"

Lilith had being cut off by these voices, and paused to listen. People were arguing.

Two people.

She of course recognized one of the ranting tones as belonging to the King himself, His royal fucking Majesty. But why would he be arguing, and who with, at this early time of day? She quietly followed the sound of the voices to an adjoining living area, and past a sliding open dresser to the balcony. She pushed apart the veils and walked onto it.

She was instantly slapped by a rogue wing.

Lilith was dazzled for a moment.

"Shit! Look what you\'ve done." She heard the king\'s voice and felt him draw near as she blinked to clear her vision and she spat out. . .feathers.

Long, long feathers.

Lilith finally cleared her eyes and zoomed in on the King, Thebault, who was trying to help her. She slapped his meddlesome hands away. Then her gaze swiveled, round a wide arc to the left area of the balcony. She first saw the long mystical shawl, flowing down the turret above, like a curtain in the wind. Lilith looked higher and saw the boots under it.

It was unlike any shoes to exist on the mortal plane. It was the make of ancient sandals with strings that wrapped up to the calves, and what exquisite calves she saw.

Lilith noticed the sandals and feet and shawl were white. The immaculate white of purity so fine it hurt the eyes. This figure glowed like the sun.

She continued the path of her eyes upwards.

There were gold prints in the pristine tunic, some kind of writing. Unreadable, even to her. But from the shiny glyphs of white gold, certainly [Celestial]. She could tell she stared at an Angel even before she saw the wings. And wings she did see.

Six of them.

The magnificent sprouts of white feathers lurched up into the dawn, three pairs of wonderful light, like you might find if you enlarged that on a dove. It was one of the six wings that had got her in the face. Rune of the purest creation magic flowed in the breeze around the swishing cloak. The aura was distinctly heavenly, not a blemish or color other than white. And when Lilith came to the face, oh?

What a face it was?

The hair of the Angel ran down long, spilling in the arches of her wings. There was some shape revealed in the morning wind, so Lilith knew she was a woman. The Angel\'s eyes were the purest, whitest silver. It was almost impossible to distinguish the iris from the pupils. She had a pointed, aquiline nose, full, rose lips and a tilting smile.

When she looked at you, it was damn near suicidal to look away.

The Angel\'s [Halo] was a golden ring of nine diamond stars.

She was a [Seraph]: the highest order. She made the air glow just by existing in it.

She floated above them, but dropped to the earth when she made eye contact with Lilith. Lilith was a head taller but knew none of them on the balcony were in their true [Divine] forms. Else, they be probably as tall as the tower they all stood from.

"Hey!" The Seraph said. She had a quiet voice.

It was the first time, in a really long time that Lilith found herself tongue-tied; now she got the appeal of heaven. After a five seconds, Lilith had still not spoken a word. Her own Goth purple iris were rooted on the angelic whites of the stranger.

"I\'m sorry if we disturbed you," the beautiful Angel continued. "I am Yuriel. Yuriel Yellowstone."

She offered her hand. Lilith was amazed at her humility.

"Lilith. Lilith Firstborn," she offered in turn.

"Uh, you have a feather in your hair. Let me just get it—" Yuriel inched in and touched her hand softly to Lilith\'s hair. There was a buzz of brief static, and both women felt a jump in their individual mana as their auras merged: dark and light. "There!" Yuriel tossed the feather. "Sorry about that."

Lilith smiled and watched as the six wings on her back folded in a hypnotic wave. They vanished under her tunic, gone from sight and her back, like they were never there.

"Hi Lilith! You made it. Thank you for coming on such short notice." Thebault jumped in.

Yuriel and Lilith turned as one, suddenly remembering another person was there on the balcony with them. The King ignored their looks of surprise. He went on, "Lilith, meet my wife—"

"Ex-wife!" Yuriel stated. "And I believe we\'ve already covered the introductions ourselves."

She turned to smile at Lilith. "Once again, I apologize for the ruckus earlier. Meph can be a prick. I just came here to have a discussion about our daughter who I\'ve no doubt he has chased away by his actions in the last moon."

Lilith thought back as Yuriel was speaking to the argument before. Now, everything made sense.

"I must say, I\'ve never met an Angel who cusses as much as you do. I like it." Lilith smiled back.

"I\'ll take that. Thank you!" Yuriel visibly brightened. "But I must leave now. It was a pleasure meeting you though, Lilith." Her six white wings whipped out again and her [Halo Ring] glowed more fiercely as she took off from the balcony. Lilith watched mesmerized at her beautiful flapping. The currents of wind at her ascension blew strands of her midnight coiffure in her face.

Lilith kept staring until the lovely Seraph was a twinkle in the golden sunshine, and a smidge later, one with the sun.

"Earth to Lilith!" Thebault snapped his fingers in her face. "I brought you here—"

"Shut it, Meph!" Lilith chided. "I don\'t wanna hear it. You really brought me here to play therapist? And here I thought you had found the Apollyon. By all the gods in heav\'n and the Underworld, HOW THE FUCK did you manage to bag a Seraphim?!"

Lilith swept back into the room and out the door, calling back to the balcony where the King stood smothered in the exit of both women, "Grow some fucking balls, Your Majesty!"


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