Wrath

“When did you last eat, my dear?” Asked one maid as she tugged at the blonde’s arm; dragging the ivory robes from her flawless body which had been purposely fitted for that grand day which had now ended. 

“When did you last bleed?” Another question, thrown at her by the other maid who stood in front of her; removing the tiara from Azazel’s blonde crown with curiosity in both maiden’s eyes. They stepped back, examining the naked angel for a moment. 

Confused at the sudden trivia, Azazel frowned, eyebrows furrowing as she took the more comfortable silk which she spent a moment draping over herself to give her some modesty. What strange questions. Bleed? She didn’t bleed any sort of blood. She was an angel. But before she could answer, the maids were whispering; burning gazes as Azazel’s swollen stomach. 

“She is our queen now. You can’t say that!” One maid shrieked as she gently hit the other in the arm with the palm of her hand. 

“Say what?” Azazel questioned as she ran her hands through her hair momentarily, blissfully unaware of the change in her body. 

“Sin.. my queen. She suggested sin!” There was clearly no loyalty between the two bickering women as they tried to piece two and two together. But they weren’t wrong. It hadn’t even clicked that her actions of fornication could cause a ripple effect on her body. After all, she was just randomly created. There was no meeting of flesh. No intimacy behind it. She was a mere thought which came to be. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Azazel had heard enough. Her patience had been lowering slowly since being on Earth. She thought she said some stupid things but she was challenged by the intellect of humans. They were more impressionable than she. A rare occasion. 

“You dare insult me on my wedding day?” Azazel stood from the perch which was the side of her bed, hand raising and lashing across the woman’s face who dared to question her faith. A chilling sound of skin hitting skin echoed through the Angel’s chambers as she bared her teeth at them both.

“Get out! How dare you!” 

With a gasp from both the contact of her fearless hand and her cold words, the maids nodded and quickly scurried out. As each day past, she was unintentionally becoming more agitated. Aggressive. As if the sins she was learning had a more sinister effect on the soul of an angel. Who would know? After all – sinners were punished. But... no sinner was an angel. Not yet. It would be a while until her brothers and sisters came to play. 

Sitting herself back down on the bed, a long sigh left her lips; sapphire gaze lowering to her stomach which was covered by the maroon silk she had utilised as a gown. A hand rose, placing it on her stomach for a brief moment. She didn’t feel any different in herself. Apart from her anger which had come out of no-where. Like a strange shift in tension which had been triggered by something. Hormonal. Impulsive. These were not angelic traits. The maids were right. Her abdomen was tight. Warm to the touch. Inflated bulge all screaming warning signs at her. It took a while to click. But when it did, Azazel’s eyes widened slowly. She would surely perish for this. Laying with man was one thing. But procreating with them could have been a completely different Sin in itself. 

She breathed in heavily, eyes closing over as she realised the seriousness of this. She couldn’t perish. She wasn’t ready. Where did angels go to die? They were immortal. They couldn’t die.. could they?

Azazel wasn’t hanging around to find out. But this shock which shrouded her body like a deadly disease erupted into something else.

Wrath. 

How dare a human man spoil her. 

This sudden feeling of rage which came over her was unexpected and almost unexplainable. Even mortals who struggled to accept their fate would have never had reacted in such a way. How she managed to turn from her bittersweet innocence into a furious ball of destruction was unfathomable. But it didn’t take long for Azazel to ruin her chambers. The shrieking angel tore at the thin netting which was her curtails. She launched objects at the poster bed, shattering the wood into a thousand splinters. Porcelain crumbled across the marble tiles into painted shards and the brickwork was soon lined with puncture marks which came from her enraged fists as she channelled her inner celestial strength. 

It didn’t take long for Cassander to arrive. After all, they were to consummate their marriage. But from the disruption he arose to up the stone staircase, a look of shock came to his facials. Naturally, he approached her whirlwind which was Azazel with utter confusion. They had just got married. It was what she had been lusting for. What her greed stemmed from. Was that not enough? 

He came from behind her and wrapped his arms around the angel in a bid to calm her down. But it was useless. She grabbed his bicep and hauled him over her shoulder and onto his back with a thud which caused the building to tremble from her wrath. Heavily breathing, the angel stood over the trojan man who had gone from being a mighty warrior to a quivering man who saw a side of his wife which was never imaginable. That innocent girl who had been brought to his doorstep as a gift had become his worst nightmare in a matter of seconds. But his other side soon began to shine through. He was renowned for his abusive mouth and hand to the maids. As Azazel turned to continue lashing out, a shriek came from her lips as she tripped forward; ankle being yanked at as she went to step away. Landing with her own stomach-wrenching tumble upon the cold stone. A vindictive smirk came from Cassander as he watched the porcelain blonde land with a brief wince from the awkward class of bone on the floor. He was quick to try and intercept her from moving though as he forced himself up from his elbows and flipped his body over. Landing on top of her, Cassander put a hand over her mouth quickly, angry cries becoming nothing more than weak muffles as he grinned down at her. His secondary hand then began to claw at her silk; physically demanding the removal with the crazed, sexualised look in his eyes. 

Most women would have gazed up at the pervert with fear in their eyes. But she was not any woman. She was an angel. And a furious one with a flame in her heart that was growing day by day. Her eyebrows furrowed as he continued to throw fuel on her fire by firmly undressing her. 

The next action was a blur. There was no way to describe how it felt. How easy it was to tear human flesh. How the skin held no resistance to the large shard of pottery that Azazel had scrambled for and plunged into his side without even thinking. Cassander paused, a quivering gasp coming from his lips as he struggled to find his breath. It wasn’t intentional. But with the mood she had been in and his outlandish behaviour only pushing her further, it wasn’t surprising by the way she acted. It could have almost been said to be self-defence if she hadn’t followed through with her next actions. 

Pushing his body back off of her, Azazel sat herself up and then hauled herself up to her feet. She was careless that her robe was nothing more than a crumbled mess at her feet; now stained in blood where Cassander had begun to bleed out on top of her. There was something about the scene which gave Azazel a feeling of empowerment. She had been the youngest in Heaven. She was often disregarded and needed to be persistent to be heard. But this... this had got the message across loud and clear. 

With a hand on his shoulder as Cassander laid, clutching at his stomach as he began to cough blood, Azazel’s head slowly began to tilt, watching him with a smirk coming to her lips. That greed and lust for him had been taken over by wrath. And she was embracing it. 

“You will never lay a hand on me again.” Azazel whispered as she gazed into his eyes which were swollen in tears. Still completely shocked that his dearly beloved had done such a thing. After all, wasn’t this the part she had been lusting for since she first embraced the sin? 

“No man will ever touch me like that again. No man will ruin my divinity. Not you. Or any man.” She whispered as her hand lowered to the large shard which still remained lodged in his stomach. With a small smile coming to her lips as her gentle gaze melted his own, her dainty hand put more pressure on the wound again, driving the shard further into him as he cried out in agony. Blood soaked his robe and stained the nude angel as slowly rose; wiping her bloody hand against her thigh. She shook her head and turned. 

“I am divinity.”