Summary
The pure-white angel’s six wings were bound in iron chains. I bent down and bit into his neck. He let out a low, breathless gasp, his body trembling. Mission complete. I was ready to pull away and leave. “Why did you stop biting?” The young man reached out and caught hold of me. Tugging down his collar, he exposed the pale, slender neck beneath that neat neckline and asked uneasily. Tiny bite marks dotted his skin, smooth and delicate as congealed cream, like plum blossoms fallen on a snowy mountain. I stared at the chains shattered all over the floor, dumbfounded. Was it too late to flee back to the Underworld?