Blood. A powerful and binding concoction that defines a person yet is spilled over that definition. In some worlds, families fight noble blood against noble blood but in my world, if you do not have wings on your feet, you are not fit to live here. Thankfully, my pads have wings but the only soul I would give my life and honor for has none.
My heart beats swiftly for a three-winged angel who with his very talons ripped out my soul and made it his. Tonight we meet again yet in the very depths of my being I feel it may be our last.
A warm breeze washes over my bare flesh and brings along with it the scent of the sea mingled with the perfume of grass. I feel feather light and wait for the wind to blow me off this castle tower but stay rooted in place because of my heavy heart. I draw my knees close to my body and rest my cheek on them letting the moon cloak me in a veil of cold blue. I then smell a familiar musky sweetness riding on the sails of sea and grass. My love embraces me from behind with his lean muscular arms enveloping me with his wings and his heart. He presses against me as if to melt my carnal being with his body heat into the quicksilver of his blood. He strong rough hands caress me gently like the very warm breeze binding us both. I feel like the moon cradled by velvet black night and our love is the twinkling diamonds of the stars. I asked if he was identified by any of his yellow-eyed brethren and he denied.