Midnight City (boyxboy)

|Forty One: In This Shirt|

Dear citizens of the Magic Realm,

I have finally found the angel responsible for the Queen's death, which unfortunately was twenty years ago. What happened to my wife was cruel, heartless and purely evil. My children suffered greatly because it, and therefore this angel will also suffer the consequences.

This angel is the wife of Gavreel, ruler of the Heavens and all angels. As a result, she will be executed in Midnight City Square this evening. Myself, the Prince, and the Princess shall be present. All citizens are welcome, as the entire realm grieved the Queen's loss all those years ago.

Kind regards,

Your King.

"I managed to retrieve a copy of the letter, Your Grace," Aeron told Gavreel before handing him the piece of paper marked with a royal stamp. "It was sent to every Magic Realm citizen just this morning."

Gavreel's icy blue eyes scanned the letter, narrowing as he clearly took in the words on the page. However, what nobody expected was for tears to well in them, water pooling and eventually wetting his perfect complexion. "My wife is alive," he whispered.

After twenty years, the Heavens had eventually managed to adjust to life without her. Nobody knew what happened to their son either, just assuming that like Annie, he was almost dead. Samuel was young when he lived in the Heavens, too young to even remember his time there. And the best place to hide him was in a big city in the mortal realm.

"The Vampire King didn't kill her," Aeron then pointed out, his expression unreadable and tone of voice flat. "There may be a way to rescue her."

"Yes," Gavreel muttered, not sparing the dark angel a glance. "He kept her as his prisoner all these years."

A look somewhat resembling sympathy etched itself onto Aeron's features, but was quickly wiped away when Gavreel snapped out of his letter-induced daze.

His pristine white wings were tucked neatly behind his back as he once again scanned the letter. It was real, there was no doubt about it. "Prepare Samuel," he ordered. "I want him ready to fight by this evening."

Three years ago

Sam's head was pounding, and his mouth felt dry. He hadn't had a hangover this bad in a long time, and what didn't help was the fact that he wasn't even in his own bed. Whatever sheets that were once covering the bed seemed to be in a heap on the floor at the end of it, revealing his naked body. Grimacing at the foul taste in his mouth, he allowed hazy memories of the night before to resurface to the top of his mind. Flashing lights. Blurring images. Smoky rooms and heavy music. Shit sex and cheap booze.

He was so young- in his first year of college and already fucking it up royally.

"Shit," another person cursed from beside him. "What time is it?"

His blonde hair was a mess, tanned skin smooth and glowing from the sunlight that streamed through his window. When he smiled, a dimple appeared in his cheek, and when he sat up he leaned over to place a kiss on Sam's shoulder.

"Noon," Sam told him. "I have class at two."

"So?" the other boy replied, a cheeky grin on his lips. He pulled Sam into his chest, letting his lips kiss from the boy's collarbone to his neck, causing a shiver to go down his spine. "Just skip and stay here with me."

"Pete..." Sam groaned, trying to hide the smile that was threatening to break out onto his tired face.

"Sam..."