Seraphim Falling: A Seraphim Resistance Novella, #1

By Stephanie BwaBwa

A warrior about to be crowned. Exiled angels returning for vengeance. A massacre that'll change their lives for eternity. 

 

Titaia Angelfyre is a powerful warrior who earned her crown from conquering in competitions, and the blood of battle. She's a coronation away from sealing her fate as the next high sovereign of her world.

 

Her sole focus is on surviving the coronation and her transition into the fire palace…

 

Until the great Raven, King of the Fallen, crashes the ceremony and starts slaughtering all of the angels.

 

As the Fallen attack, Titaia is forced into hiding, leaving her to make a life altering decision.

 

How far will she go to protect the angels and save her own life when she runs out of options to survive?

 

This novella is a fast-paced, epic adventure, involving bravery, love, heroism, and sacrifice. For fans of angels, magic, battle, romance and heart-wrenching plot twists.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elledelle Publishing
• Release date: Feb 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9798201974893

Book preview

Chapter 1

One

The golden eyes staring back at her almost seemed prophetic. She breathed. In, out, in, out. Mechanical repetitions of breath flowed through her lungs as the finality of the dawn settled in her consciousness like concrete.

This moment was the dawn.

These were her last moments in this bed chamber, flowing with silks of rouge, rugs of gold, and tapestries of ancient legends now rooted in her spirit. Never again would she spend her evenings gyrating to a beating drum, surrounded by her famàla, their bellies full of a fine meal and several goblets of spiced elixir. This dusk, everything would change for eons to come.

Titaia Scarlethorn Angelfyre looked at herself in the mirror one more time. She pulled the end of her headscarf, unraveling the silky fabric. Her hair was a mass of twists curled tightly in individual strands. Maederì had twisted Titaia’s hair the night before. And she had taken her time. As if relishing the final moments with her daerì.

Her maederì didn’t speak much. Seraph mothers were the quiet but deadly sort. As maederì wrestled swaths of oil into Titaia’s unforgiving curls, she hummed. Titaia had let her eyes fall shut. Had felt every tug and pull of her mother’s hands in her hair. Felt the proud waves yield and let maederì nourish them. She would miss that small act of love so much. Her eyes had misted.

There’s no need for tears, Scarlethorn. Maederì had said, her gentleness soothing Titaia’s aching spirit. We’ll see you again.

It may be a thousand cycles before you do, maederì. Titaia had whispered.

But it will still be. Maederì had said. Then she went back to humming and combing. To detangling and twisting.

Titaia shook her head, clearing her mind of the memory. She leaned forward and began pulling her twists loose.

Taya, I help! a little voice cried at her feet.

Titaia chuckled as her eyes fell on her youngling saerì.

Sure you can handle it, Zaza? Titaia asked, scooping up the little chocolate ball of fire into her lap. Playing with my hair is like going to war. Her saerì jumped in her lap, little hands reaching for a twist.

I help! She squeaked, then started laughing. Titaia laughed with her, running her fingers through Zaza’s curls.

If you say so. Titaia planted a kiss on the youngling’s temple. She dipped her head forward making it easier for Zaza to reach.

Six other bodies filtered into her bedchambers, their wings dragging like veils.

Oh? So, you’re letting the seedling help, but not us? said another one of her saerìs. She was of fifteen cycles and had a grand mouth on her that matched her flaring attitude.

Alpha blessed. I never denied help. Titaia rolled her eyes and clucked her tongue. Grab a cushion and sit down.

Titaia watched her saerìs file in around her. Titaia always joked with maederì that she and paederì had too much free time. Five enèn and eight elèl.

Maederì would always make her hush between fits of giggling. Besides, she would say, the Alpha blessed her and paederì to be fruitful and multiply. Then she vowed the time was coming when Titaia would have her own younglings flying around her feet. Angels of Saerel and Scarlet Watcher blood.

Titaia had flushed. Her mind would drift to the Scarlet Watcher. The delicious seraph who was her trainer, then chose to be her Guardian. Somewhere along the way, he became her lover, and quickly their Soulu Bond settled mating them for eternity.

He would be her escort this dusk, staying with her all evening. Would remain by her side throughout the ceremony and following celebrations. He’d also be moving with her to Pâlais Flames—the fire palace. And he would share her bedcloud. Titaia licked her lips, flushed with drooling anticipation.

Her long fingers curled around her pendant, a famàla heirloom given to her as a youngling by her paederì—a gilded crown with scarlet thorns curling through ivory stars—as her mind wandered through impish thoughts.

She’s thinking about him again. One of her younger saerìs snickered.

"If I had a seraph like him alight the Soulu Bond within me, phew! I’d be thinking about him, too, an elder saerì chimed in, giggling. My my. Cinder and Titaia, flying through clouds of fire. K-i-s-s—"

"Stars! Would all of you just shut up." Titaia hissed.

Her saerìs broke out in cackles and snorts. The chatter continued as they all helped her undo her twists. Titaia bounced her legs when Zaza got irritated because she wasn’t as fast as the rest of her saerìs and threatened to let out a siren of wailing. A few moments went on before a few of her saerìs stepped away to fish her gown out of the closet.

What do you think it will be like? one saerì asked.

So many angels will be there, said another.

Paederì invited angels from every single cosm! confirmed a

younger.

"What a way to finish the Sahraura Festival! Maybe you’ll find your soulu there," another snickered.

"Word is, the angels of each cosm are showing out. Their ethèr, their ranks, their markings... Every court is so distinct. The fashion, the extravagance—"

The ayèns! Ooh lala! her saerìs cooed together.

Titaia rolled her eyes. Her saerìs were such gossips. Still, she listened. She couldn’t help but fall for it every time. They knew all the juicy stories.

Tonight was the final individual Saerel coronation, and Titaia was to be crowned.

Every angel breathing who wasn’t exiled or cursed was invited to attend. The Higher Angels and Lesser Angels within the four angelic ranks of the Astraean realm. Seraphim, Cherubim, Archim, and Anglin—with all powers and abilities.

Every epoch, a new rule of Saerels were chosen by the Alpha himself. The Alpha chose eight Seraphim, the highest-ranking angels, who would inherit invincibility and be bound by oath to protect Astraea and her angels of every rank and kind. Each seraph was a representative of the eight grand ethèr—Flames, Seas, Light, Storms, Glass, Metals, Soil, and Wind. The Saerels would reign together above every cosm. Infinite power, wisdom, and might would become their essence. After a lifetime of training, studying, fighting, and proving, one by one, each were chosen. Once the Alpha had chosen the final seraph, the coronations began, one in each respective cosm. Titaia’s was the last. At the end of this dusk, she would rise to be the Saerel of Flames.

Always lost in thought.

Titaia jumped, then whipped around, heart thundering. Her saerìs had fallen quiet, their eyes glittering with amusement.

Titaia’s eyes lifted to meet the intruder. Cinder Ellenyus Starryder. Alpha redeem her. The ayèn was a special kind of... She bit her bottom lip, struggling to rein in her salacious desires. Her eyes tumbled down his loose ivory tunic, which bared a broad, mahogany chest, and the golden trousers that hugged his muscled thighs. His golden locs sat on his head in a large bun. His wings lifted high above his head, yet still dragged

Reviews for Seraphim Falling

[Brittany Carmon · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This book was amazing !! I loved it cant wait to read the rest of the stories