Female POV

Heaven’s Arrows – Part 1.5 (Sarah’s POV)

The Theatre of Shadows had loomed over our college chatter like a dark promise, its neon glow a tease that finally snagged us—me, Sarah, along with Lucas, Nate, and Emily—on a restless October night. I’d gone along with my usual smirk, my leather jacket a shield against the absurdity of it all. “It’s just a overhyped haunt,” I’d said, leaning back in Nate’s creaky sedan, my voice sharp as ever. Lucas led with his cocky grin, Emily’s quiet nod egged him on, and Nate—damn Nate—flashed that lopsided smile that always got under my skin. Now, standing before Heaven’s Gate, the arch of pearl and gold pulsing with a soft, otherworldly light, my sarcasm faltered. The air was thick with honeysuckle and musk, a scent that clung to my jacket, seeping into me, warming my skin beneath my tank top until my breath hitched.

“Creepy as hell,” I muttered, crossing my arms as Lucas pushed through the arch, the rest of us trailing like moths to a flame. The world melted into a golden haze—clouds drifting above, petals soft under my boots, a sky of endless dawn that felt too perfect, too pure. My jacket felt heavy, my jeans too tight against my thighs, and a warmth flooded me—peace, a strange certainty that I’d stumbled into something divine. “What the fuck is this?” I breathed, turning to the others, their eyes wide and reflecting the same awe—Lucas already lost in Emily’s gaze, Nate’s grin softening as he glanced my way.

Then they appeared—two angels, radiant and intoxicating. Marcus, broad and chiseled, his white wings shimmering, his golden eyes piercing through the haze, his tunic barely concealing a body that screamed power. Selene, beside him, glowed—her silk gown a translucent tease, clinging to the curve of her breasts, the dip of her waist, her wings arching like a lover’s promise. Her scent—honeysuckle, musk, a whisper of spice—wrapped around me, dizzying, as she stepped toward Lucas and Emily, her voice a velvet purr. “Welcome to bliss,” she said, while Marcus turned to us, his deep hum vibrating through me. “Surrender to it,” he added, raising a golden bow, four arrows nocked and glowing.

“What—” I started, but the arrow struck—swift, silent, a sharp sting in my chest that melted into a rush of heat, a tidal wave of sensation that rewrote my core. My eyes snapped to Nate—his dark hair tousled, his broad shoulders straining his flannel, his hazel eyes suddenly the only thing I could see. My heart lurched, a raw, aching need surging through me, lust and love tangling in a way I’d never known. “Nate,” I rasped, my voice thick, my sarcasm gone, “shit—I love you. I’ve always loved you—why didn’t I feel this before?” My body trembled, my jacket slipping as I stepped toward him, drawn by a fire I couldn’t name.

He grabbed me, his hands fisting in my leather, pulling me close, his breath ragged. “Sarah—fuck, I love you too,” he groaned, his voice rough with desire, his eyes burning into mine. “I need you—always have.” His words hit me like a spark, igniting me, and I pressed myself against him, my hands sliding up his chest, feeling the heat beneath his flannel as our lips crashed together—slow, deep, tasting the salt and sweetness of him, my tongue teasing his in a sensual dance that drew a moan from my throat. Lucas and Emily were a blur beside us, their own passion unfolding, but all I cared about was Nate—his hands, his mouth, the hardness pressing against me through his jeans.

Marcus knelt before us, his wings brushing my legs, a feathered caress that sent a shiver racing up my spine, amplifying the heat pooling low. “This is your truth,” he purred, his fingers tracing my arm, then Nate’s, his touch a spark that made us both gasp. “Surrender—become angels, bound by love, serving our heaven.” His golden eyes flared, and I dropped to my knees before him, Nate following, our hands clasped as we gazed up, our submission visceral, complete. “Please,” Nate begged, his voice husky, “make us yours—give us this forever. I’d do anything for her—for you.”

I nodded, my body trembling as I pressed against Nate, my breasts soft against his chest, my hands tugging at his flannel, peeling it off to reveal the taut lines of his shoulders, the skin I’d secretly craved. “Yes—please, Marcus,” I murmured, my lips brushing Nate’s jaw, kissing, sucking, tasting the sweat there as my fingers roamed, sliding under his shirt to trace his abs. “I love him—I need him—don’t let this fade.” Marcus smiled, his hand resting on my shoulder, then Nate’s, his touch stoking our hunger as Selene guided Lucas and Emily nearby, their moans a faint echo.

“Yield,” Marcus whispered, his lips hovering near mine, then Nate’s, his breath a tease that deepened our ache. I kissed Nate again—hungry, ****—my hands shoving his jeans down, my nails grazing his thighs as he groaned into my mouth, his hands cupping my face, then sliding to my jacket, tearing it off. My tank top followed, his fingers brushing my breasts through my bra, teasing my nipples until they peaked, a whimper escaping me as I arched into him. Marcus’s wings flared, light enveloping us, and my body shifted—feathers sprouting, soft and white, my skin glowing as I transformed, my senses sharpening with every touch of Nate’s hands.

His wings unfurled beside me, shimmering, his flannel gone, his chest bare and radiant as he turned to me, his smile a mix of love and possession. “Sarah,” he purred, his voice a sensual growl, his hands sliding to my jeans, unbuttoning them with a trembling urgency. “I love you—so fucking much.” I moaned, my hands cupping his face, pulling him down to the petal-strewn ground, my lips tracing his neck, his chest, tasting the musk of him as I shed my jeans, my skin warm and yielding against his. “I love you too,” I whispered, straddling him, guiding him inside me—slow, deep, a silken glide that drew a cry from my lips, his hands gripping my hips as we moved together, our wings trembling with each thrust, our love a visceral, eternal bond.

Marcus and Selene watched, their power—Cupid’s arrows—binding us as we expressed our love, our submission to them sealed in every moan, every touch. “Go,” Marcus said, his voice a velvet command as we shuddered together, our release a shared ecstasy that cemented our transformation, my body tightening around him as he groaned my name. “Spread this beyond our gates—Azrael’s vision grows.” Nate’s hand found mine, his wings brushing my own, and we rose—angels of love, free to leave, our passion a lure for others, a trap woven into the architect’s plan for a world beyond the park.