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Enchanting You

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opposites attract
second chance
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Blurb

He has a reputation of a betrayer. A ruthless vampire, the enemy of all, the traitor, the two- timer, the dealer, the tactless opportunist. His life's driven by revenge. He hungers for bloodlust. He lives for torture.

He is Azazel- the infamous 'Angel of Death'.

In exchange for the Royal Throne, Azazel is given a task by the Gods of blood. Kill Pandora. And a gift surely awaits for him.

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1- Becoming a Widow
Pandora "Look into my eyes." I whispered softly. Zenon was underneath me. His eyes were staring into mine, trying to gauge my next move. I chuckled softly. My husband was scared of me. He should be. He was restrained with my magic, and I was holding the only thing that could turn him into nothingness, into my hands. Zenon struggled fruitlessly, trying to get free of the restraints, trying to break the bonds of magic that I had earned through aeons of hard work. I adjusted my body on his groin and sat a bit more upright. Even though it was way past midnight and there was nothing but the soft glow of a candle illuminating the room, I could see everything very clearly. I could see his black eyes staring into mine, full of fright. I could see his mouth trying to move to get some words out to utter more lies. I could see his ash brown hair whispering over the silk pillow, moving with the light wind that was coming through the small window. My one hand went over to his neck, and started putting pressure bit by bit. And although he was more powerful than me in physical strength, he was not a match to me in magic. He was a Sorcerer and I was an Enchantress. A perfect match, weren't we? I smiled at him then. I was happy once. Delighted and cheerful and overjoyed and blissful at a time. I had carried his child in my womb. I was powerful. I was full of aura. I was deeply filled with magic once. I was ecstatic then. I could do it again. I can become happy again. I can take back my heaven again. With that thought clouding my vision, I picked up the dagger that was covered in the writings of an ancient time, and penetrated it through his heart gently. The dagger sunk inside his chest bit by bit. I wanted to enjoy his pain. I watched as his eyes widened in fright and excruciating pain. His captivating black eyes begged for mercy, but in my eyes, pity on him was not worth my time. I waited and soothed my soul with his silent cries of pain. Not even a word came out of his mouth but I could see the impact of the knife that was penetrating his heart, into his eyes. Slowly, and gently, the light in his eyes started to dim. The struggles to get out of the magical ropes fainted and finally, every movement stilled. Zenon was dead. I moved to the door to get to my next target. Grabbing the handles of the heavy, wooden door that barred anybody from coming inside without permission, I stormed through it. A servant immediately rushed to me, bowed and eagerly asked, "Is there anything I can do for you, mistress?" My expressionless gaze went to her. The golden, long scarf was adorning her left shoulder, the sign of the royals. I looked at her from tip to toe while she did not dare to raise her head up from her bowing position. I contemplated my desire to kill her or not. "Do one thing." I ordered and started moving forward without bothering to give her another glance, "Clean up the garbage from my bed."

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