Epilogue Ashriel still remembered what being embedded deep within Anniel had felt like. Heaven. He’d been a virgin for more than four hundred years, guarding his purity with utmost fervor and in a moment of drunken weakness… No. Not drunk. It had been that red dragon. Remien Fyre. That bastard, son of a whore, had slipped something into their drinks. Liquid X. Ashriel’s mind had already been running rampant with desire for Anniel. The Liquid X had been like tossing a spark on rocket fuel. After falling from grace, he’d returned, shamed to Angeloria, home of all holy warriors. He withstood being deplumed and cast out. He never realized how devastating being deplumed was. So when he finally opened his eyes and found himself lying face down upon an angel-sized bed in what looked like Alpha 7, surrounded by a large group of outcast reapers, he knew Ankara escort he’d been unconscious for many moon cycles when he saw that his whole plumage had grown back. “Welcome back, sleeping beauty.” It took everything he had not to snarl at Natanael’s happy face. His Mohawk was an outrageous shade of crimson that only served to remind Ashriel of a certain weredragon with blood-red hair. Slowly, Ashriel rose from the bed. His hair was too long. He usually kept it a few inches below his shoulders. It came down to his waist now. He clenched his teeth in anger. Ignoring the questioning looks, he walked out of the room he was in. Alpha 7’s corridors were a soft pearly grey, so pale it was almost white. The floors gleamed black and the overhead lighting simulated muted sunshine. A few Holographic pictures along some Ankara escort bayan of the walls showed scenes of open sky and billowy clouds. Ashriel ignored it all, his eyes riveted to the Alpha Angel approaching him. Remien Fyre’s grin was wide enough to be insulting. “Holy shit. You’re finally up. I’m so glad, Ash. Let me be the first to welcome you aboard Alpha 7.” The insipid weredragon raised his hand in greeting. Ashriel raised his hand to wrap his fingers around the idiot’s throat. Being an even seven feet tall gave Ashriel an advantage over the six-foot-three Alpha Angel. He effortlessly held him several inches off the floor against the wall. Ashriel spread his wings out and went nose to nose with Remien Fyre. He wanted to watch the bastard’s pretty green eyes bulge as he choked the life out of Escort Ankara him. “Remi. Let him go you big bastard.” A tiny, very pregnant girl pummeled Ashriel’s back, and though he really wanted to strangle Remien Fyre, he couldn’t stand to hear a female weeping hysterically while he killed the father of her unborn babes. Ashriel let Remi drop like a sack of feces to the floor. Rowie crawled over her mate, brushing his locks from his face as he coughed and tried to breathe. Ashriel had to admit, the weredragon’s face was a very nice shade of purple, although it did clash with his crazy red hair. No one should have hair that color. It was absolutely scandalous, sinful. “God, what did you do?” a feminine voice demanded behind him. Ashriel stiffened. Oh, no. He wasn’t prepared to face her yet. Perhaps if he just kept his back to her, ignored her, she’d go away. Anniel stepped around him. She was tall for an Edenian female, though she still came up to his nose. She stepped into him, her face angry. He felt her breasts press against his chest, tormenting him with the memories of what they had felt like in his hands, their taste in his mouth.