It is the divine nature of the mortal realm that one can fall in love, but it is also the divine nature of this realm that love be easily taken away. I used to think of destiny as God's plan, but most recently, have accepted life as it comes… in slow, tormenting doses. When love found me it was veiled. When it was lifted, it became an obsession… Ever since I moved here from California, I began having nightmares. That's when Dantalion found his way into my heart. In him beat the heart of the undead.
Some say even the fallen can reclaim their salvation. His salvation wore the face of a mortal girl. I was the girl. I did not yet know of him, or his exile. I was to welcome his presence. And the pain it brought. I was to be tempted by the taste of immortality. I bore the resemblance of his woman, Lilith. She was the reason for his fall from grace.
Dantalion's lust was my obsession. His curse was mine alone to bear. Strange as it seemed, I welcomed it. Every night. Pain consumed me but at the same time, gave me something back, an empty reflection of the taste of immortality. His was the only voice I ever heard. He became an elixir pulsing through my blood. I could hear his breathing, beside me in the night. Sure as a scream, wearing the face of the angel of darkness. His lust was uncontrolled, almost animal-like, the coldness of his skin moving across my body. He is beautiful. My fingertips traced the contours of his flesh, sculpted to perfection, slender and defined, moving across his arms, over the ripples that defined his abdominals, then to the narrow margin of hair that began at the naval and moved downward. This sensation forced me to believe this was not the flesh of anything that would hurt me.
My nightmares drew me into his world. They were always so vivid. I could remember details and sounds, especially the way He made me feel. I call them nightmares, but they are more like visions, things only he and I were a part of. Things that never happened in a mortal world. These visions allowed me to see it all… his purpose, his change of heart, and his fall from grace, only I was unable to change his destiny, or so I thought.
Nine orders of angelic hierarchy, caretakers of God, sat at the thrones of the third heaven. The guardians, those closest to the mortal realm, served as messengers to mankind. Just as his birthright placed him here, Dantalion, the youngest member of he angelic order, knew he must resist the temptation of mortal sin. His seat at the throne of the third heaven was his dominion. Soul pure of heart, Dantalion's perfection was his gift from God. His eyes, piercing spheres of onyx, longed for more than his immortality could give. A golden- silver brilliance shone upon them.