Satan's Hunger
Prologue

Jacob laid his hand upon Kaitlyn’s forehead as she snuggled in close. Tucking her head under his chin, she wrapped a long, smooth arm around his chest. Her eyes were closed and she was smiling, her breath warm against his neck.

There was so much to experience when it came to human love. He hadn’t known. Even as he’d felt his feelings for the girl grow over the course of the last several days, he hadn’t expected all the sensations he was experiencing right now to be so strong. Not even as one of The Fallen, in all his rage and hatred, had he felt such intensity.

Not even with God.

And it wasn’t just the emotional. It was the physical too. Though their lovemaking was over, his body continued to throb. He could still feel the pleasure of it deep down in his pelvis. His skin was hot. His fingertips were tingling strangely but pleasantly.

He looked down at himself. His pants remained open and he could see the long, thick shaft of his male appendage. It was still hard but wilting quickly.

She’d enjoyed it. He’d heard it in her cry. He’d seen it in her face. He’d felt it when he’d been deep inside her. The experience had been incomparable. And it wasn’t just because of the pleasure. In fact, it wasn’t really about that at all. It was the connection he’d felt. The moment he’d entered her, something had lifted inside him. Something remarkable. Something almost akin to the feeling of God’s love he’d come to know so well. He hadn’t expected that. He hadn’t expect the love between a man and woman to be so powerful. Or, in this case, between an angel and a woman. He’d never felt so close to anyone in all his long life.

Maybe not even God.

It shook him a little. And still he felt it, that love, that powerful affection, like a warm glow in the middle of his chest. He gazed down upon her. She was already asleep, her breaths long and slow. The early morning sun had only just started to rise, a grey gloom creeping in through the window. For now, Kaitlyn’s long dark hair gleamed against the light of his aura. Gently, he played with it, smoothing its lengths between his fingers. Her dark eyelashes fanned her cheeks. There was a pink blush to her face. She’d never looked so beautiful. He knew he’d loved her before but now the feeling was almost a pain.

Jacob raised his eyes to the ceiling, enjoying the rise and fall of her chest, enjoying the feel of her heartbeat. So far, it seemed, Satan was leaving her alone to dream in peace. Jacob hoped it stayed that way.

He could sense his brother angels. They were watching closely. They all knew what he’d done. He could feel their worry and their fears. What was going to happen next was anyone’s guess. There had only been a handful of cases where an angel and a human had united. All angels knew what the ultimate sacrifice would be—the angel involved would lose God’s light, he would lose His power—but as to the sequence of events leading up to it, all they could do was wait and see.

He couldn’t deny he was nervous. When he had become one of The Fallen, he remembered how painful it had been. To have God’s light wrenched away was a terrible thing. It would be worth it, though, if it meant protecting Kaitlyn. She was worth it. He feared but did not regret.

Jacob closed his eyes as he waited. Kaitlyn hardly stirred in his arms. Her breathing didn’t change. It seemed his plan was working. Time passed slowly. The abbey was quiet. Outside in the fields he could only perceive peace. Satan’s forces were far away, blind and deaf to their whereabouts. The hallowed ground of the abbey was powerful, shielding Kaitlyn from malicious senses.

After some time, when the sun’s bright morning light began to glare against Jacob’s face, still nothing had happened. Jacob felt the same. And he began to wonder if his situation might prove to be different. He had God’s blessing, after all. His heart was pure. Perhaps he would not have to make such a terrible sacrifice like those few who’d come before him. Perhaps he could love Kaitlyn and still retain God’s divine light.

Perhaps he could have it all.

He shrugged at an unexpected prickling across the breadth of his upper back. Jacob promptly stilled as Kaitlyn shifted in his arms, murmuring something under her breath. She settled again. At a second prickle, Jacob winced but made sure not to move, not wanting to wake her.

Jacob pinched his lips together as fear tightened a knot in his stomach. He knew what the feeling was. He’d felt it countless times whenever he chose to reveal his wings. But this was different. This was not by choice.

He bit his lip at a third, much more pronounced sensation. This time it didn’t feel like prickling but clawing, like a nail was dragging across his back. He could feel the pressure building up behind his muscles—and it was extremely uncomfortable. The fear and pain of it made him suck in lungfuls of air. He tried to slow his breathing but it was impossible. Terror clutched at his throat.

Carefully, he eased away from Kaitlyn. He had to get away. He couldn’t have her witness what was about to happen—whatever it was. She murmured under her breath again as he gently laid her head upon the pillow. He pulled his arm free. She didn’t move. She didn’t wake.

Thank God.

He felt dizzy as he stood. He gripped onto the wall as he staggered. Now the pain was all up and down his back. It shot up through his spine and into the base of his neck. He was panting now. He grimaced at a sudden throb behind his eyes.

Shuddering, he stood with his hands braced against the wall, his arms straight as he hung his head between them. He had to leave the room but couldn’t seem to move his feet. If he did, he would fall. And the floor looked hard and cold in a way it had never done before. Pain, fear, emotion—it was something new. Something terrible. How could humans withstand it? How did Kaitlyn?

He needed his angel brothers’ help—and they knew it too. They were coming. But would they arrive soon enough? He bit back a cry as a fiery pain blasted across his shoulders. The pressure in his muscles continued to build until he could feel the agony of it in his shoulder blades and down the length of his spine.

A groan escaped his lips as he felt his back shred. He could actually feel the skin part. He could feel the muscle pull back as the hard bones of his wings pushed through. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. It had never been this way.

But it was happening now.

He moaned as his left wing punched through muscle, tendon and skin. He felt something warm and wet splatter across his shoulder. He turned to Kaitlyn but she was still asleep, her expression peaceful. There was that, at least.

He turned with a start, almost overbalancing, when the door opened. It was Catherine and Ezekiel. Jacob shook his head, his mind clouded, his senses awry. He hadn’t sensed their closeness. He didn’t expect that to happen. He hadn’t considered that his sacrifice would affect their connection.

Ezekiel rushed over, seizing onto Jacob’s shoulders before he could fall, his amber eyes wide. Catherine stood watching by the open door, looking pale. Was she concerned or was she frightened? He didn’t know. He didn’t know.

‘Help me,’ Jacob whispered, stumbling into Ezekiel’s arms. ’Get me away before she sees. She cannot see.’ He groaned, burying his head into Ezekiel’s shoulder at a painful throb near his right shoulder blade. Even as his left wing tore through more tissue, his right wing was struggling to do the same. It hadn’t broken through yet but he could feel it bulging beneath his muscles. He felt the ache of it in his bones. Pain—such a shocking thing. His eyes filled with tears as Ezekiel helped him hobble across the room. Catherine wrapped her arm around Jacob’s waist.

He could feel more wet warmth streaking down his back. He didn’t want to think what it was, though he had a good idea. He tried to ignore Catherine and Ezekiel’s shocked looks. Though their angel connection with Jacob was wounded, maybe even broken, they understood not to speak of it.

‘Where are David and Samuel?’ Jacob croaked once they’d left the room and closed the door. Jacob didn’t even have the strength to glance one last time at Kaitlyn. ‘I can’t—I can’t feel them.’ He took a shuddering breath. Ezekiel yanked Jacob up with a grunt as he sagged heavily against him.

‘They’re clearing the nave,’ Catherine said. ‘And organising a room for you.’

‘No,’ Jacob gasped. What was this tightness in his chest? Why did it hurt? He felt so hungry for air that he had to suck down breath after breath after breath. Almost like a human. Almost like he needed it. ‘I want the outside. I want the—I want the air, the sun …’

‘Okay,’ Catherine said.

They stumbled down the hall, then turned into the nave and Jacob saw that it was empty except for David standing by the entrance, red hair blazing against the sunlight. His forehead was furrowed but he said nothing as he opened the doors.

Just before they stepped outside, Jacob stopped, gasping for breath, hands braced against his knees at a burning wrench deep in his back. He cried out, his voice echoing against the walls as his right wing finally burst free in a spray of blood.

Blood.

He couldn’t deny it now. It was splattered across Ezekiel’s face. It was in Catherine’s hair. It was dripping down Jacob’s arms. Jacob felt it flowing down his back. But he continued with his journey outside, even as his back throbbed, even as his shoulders screamed. He could feel his wings properly now, the weight of them, the nerves that connected them to his spine, to his brain. He couldn’t move them, though. Even a twitch was agony. A white feather blew on the wind as he stepped outside.

He lifted his face to the sky. It was so bright today, the breeze cool against his face as it whisked away the tears on his cheeks and dried the blood on his neck. Sensations he’d never noticed before. Unusual but not unpleasant. Perhaps not all of his transformation would prove to be so terrible. He tried to take comfort in that.

A bird was chirping in one of the trees as they walked down the path. A sheep bleated from somewhere in the distance as they crossed into the field. Finally, Jacob could walk no more. His knees bowed. His lungs were so tight he felt like he was suffocating. Something in his chest was pounding so hard it hurt. He could feel it in his neck. He could feel it throbbing behind his eyes. It even thundered in his ears.

His heart. His heart.

He collapsed to his knees. Gripping onto his chest, he gasped. His four angel brothers looked upon him: Samuel, Catherine, David, Ezekiel. His companions—no more. At least in the angel sense. Their connection was severed. He could feel nothing of them. It made him feel … odd. More than odd. It almost hurt. It was a kind of pain that he felt deep in his chest and which filtered through the rest of his body in a horrifying numbness.

As he gasped, as he ached, as he grieved, tears pouring down his cheeks, blood leaking down his back, he slowly came to understand what the feeling was. Loneliness. And it was just as the humans described it: cold, dark, empty. He hadn’t realised how painful it could be. Even as he cried out against the agony in his back, the deadness of such a thing was so much worse.

For the first time in his long life he started to feel real terror.

His arms trembled as he struggled to hold himself up. His chest burned at every breath. Was he still not breathing fast enough? How could he not be? He was breathing all the time! The world started to spin. An ugly sensation started to build somewhere down in his abdomen. He grimaced, then choked as something foul and disgusting rose up his throat. It burned as he swallowed it back down.

With a gasp, he slumped to his side. The grass itched the back of his neck. The sun glared into his eyes. With a moan, he shut them.

He sighed as he sank into darkness.

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