Author: Denigoddess2001
Date: 02/04/02
Saga: Angels Amongst Us
Title: The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name
Rating: PG-13 (sexuality, profanity)
Characters: Dominique Denise Destine, The Weird Sisters: Selene, Phoebe, and Luna. The Dark Angel/Dark Warrior/Ebony Warrior (Okay, folks . . . you figure it out), The Hunter. MacBeth, and Tina Stephenson.

Summary: Just another twisted, demented evening in the Deniverse

Disclaimer: I don't own Gargoyles, they belong to Disney. No Fae were harmed in the writing of this story. All original characters are slaves and property of their Deity, Denigoddess2001.

Very Early Morning: 3:OOAM February 11, 2006....

Dominique hid in her room curled in a fetal position on her bed. She hugged the plush white teddy bear that sported a ribbon emblazoned with the phrase "Merry Christmas 2005." It was a small comfort that Tina had given Dominique shortly before their flight to Linoma. Dominique's mauve wings were folded around her. She chewed on the edge of her tail like a newly hatched waif fresh from the rookery. Tears streamed down flushed cheeks as she remembered the harsh words that MacBeth spoke to her.

"FORGET THIS HAPPENED, DOMINIQUE. YOU'VE JUST REMINDED ME THAT I'M ONLY TOO HUMAN." The words had confirmed her deepest hopes and shattered her most precious dreams within the span of one sentence.

He promised that he'd never hurt her. He had already broken that first promise. It was far worse than unrequited love; her love was scorned and shunned. Quiet sobs were muffled by the thick down pillow beneath her head. She clutched the stuffed animal closer to her chest and allowed her tears to take away the dull edge of MacBeth's rejection. [If only I had done things differently, he wouldn't have pushed me away! Why couldn't I have just waited a while longer?]

Selene, the raven-tressed sister of the Weird Sisters, watched all of this with growing interest. [Ah, the story unfolds as I watch. Somehow, this young Dame lost her memory. It obviously affected the Human much the same way: both are younger and more vital. I had forgotten the true shade of MacBeth's hair. Perhaps, these two pawns can help me unravel the mystery of my sisters' undone magick?]

Selene twisted one black tendril around her finger as she contemplated her plan of attack. No mere creature was unable to foil the magick of Avalon. She studied the weeping Dame as a plan formulated inside her mind. She nodded in satisfaction as the pieces of enlightenment fell into place. She smiled with contentment as she raised her hands and brought forth Avalon's magick. A rosy halo, soft and delicate, surrounded Selene's entire being while she aimed the ancient energies in Dominique's direction.

Daughter of Gaia, Daughter of Stone
Longing for love and yet forever alone
I summon the truth of thy perfect mate
So thy heartbreak now thee shall abate.

By magicks born of sources arcane
Let love fall upon you like drops of rain
Let humor and irony be your guide as
True love now joins you at your side.

Open now the portal of space and time
And spin the skein of love's paradigm
Amuse me now, Dame so cruel
And let Cupid's aim play you for the fool.

Selene's melodious laughter filled the room as she gaily cast the spell. A subtle gale began to blow in the room. The young Dame noticed the rustling of her term paper on her desk. She lifted her head in wonderment as cold winter air chilled the room. The sound of melodic gaiety mingled with the blowing gusts that now tore Dominique's room asunder. There was the roar of wind and the crash of Thunder. It was all cut through by the shrill scream of Dominique Destine.


2:55AM... Wren's Bedroom

Wren sat upright as the strange presence haunted her mind. It wasn't the warm passion of her beloved mate and fiancé, Demetrius. Nor, was it the dark, primal hunger of Ares brooding on the edges of her thoughts. It was an enigma that stymied the young woman to the point of wakefulness. The dream haunted her. At first, it had been simply a dance during Beltane and flower petals raining down on graceful dancers. She felt the darkness call to her beyond the grove of the wood in her dream.

Wren chose to shake away the darkness that beckoned to her soul. It was an ambiguous entity that called to her. It felt incomplete and lacking substance. Yet, it seemed to know how to reach within her deepest thoughts and grab her attention. She remembered how she had looked back wistfully at the galloping dancers skipping around the maypole. She felt the lure of the calling so deeply within her soul that thoughts of resistance never occurred to her.

She made her way past the Wiccans and their ribbons, the maidens and their gaiety. She walked past the ring of the grove and into the darkness of the wood. She went to the eldest oak in the glen and ran her fingers along its craggy bark. It seemed so surreal in the forest with the old branches of mature hardwoods gently rocking in the rustling breeze. Their full green leaves blocked out the brightness of the late Spring sun.

[Now, I know I'm dreaming.] Wren looked around and smelled the fresh breeze flow past her. [It's cold and snowing in the real world.]

She wondered what she ought to do next? There was something more to the dream than just a reliving of recent events. Nervously, Wren cleared her throat. She also hid one hand beneath the velvet hunter green cloak she wore. She let her luckmagick charge into a powerful orb of compressed energy and concussion beneath the folds of the cape she wore. "I have answered your call, Spirits of the Wood. So I have been summoned and so I have come. Show yourself and state your purpose."

It sounded forceful and poetic. Wren chastised herself for it sounding rather hokey. She never spoke with Demetrius formal eloquence . . . unless she was frightened. Somehow, it drew his strength to her. How she longed for her strong, dark protector by her side at that moment. [What I wouldn't give for my Annulus right now.]

She felt something cool brush against her denim-clad hip. She looked down to see her old friend gleaming in the rays of the sun. She ran her free hand around the circlet's blade. "I've missed you. I need to take you out of your box and let you see the light of day."

Wren heard the snap of a twig. She looked up to see that daylight had left the glen and now she stood in darkest night. She withdrew the Annulus from her hip and found that it glowed a brilliant violet luminosity in her grasp. She saw fingers become talons and the painful cramping of a tail emerging from her tailbone. Human eyes now glowed with the brilliant fire of a Nightkind warrior. The entire area reeked of magick. It alluded to a magick that Wren was only beginning to know. "All right, whatever of Oberon is playing tricks had best made his or her presence known."

"You're getting better, Wren Summers." A gentle voice called to her from beyond the trees. A silhouette stepped into the light. It too was clothed and her face hidden from view. "You heard me in the realm of dreams and recognized it for its true nature."

"I'm getting better." Wren cryptically replied. She stepped forward to the lone figure. "Who are you and what do you want?"

"You don't play games like other tricksters."

"I'm not a trickster."

"Wrong. The Wren was the ultimate trickster to the Celts. Your name is no accident. But, that's another story." The woman's calm voice soothed Wren's growing anxiety.

"Who are you?" Wren called again. "Tell me now or I'm leaving."

"I am Compassion. I am Fate. I am a Guardian as you are, Sweet Child." The ethereal figure hovered only inches above the ground. "I am your brightest hope and your darkest fear."

"That's it. I'm out of here." Wren turned and spoke the ancient Latin words inscribed on the Annulus. A portal opened leading to her bedroom.

"Wait." Came the call with such an urgency that Wren paused.

"Start talking." Wren said coldly. "I don't care for the subterfuge that Fae like to employ. Try honesty."

"Oh, you aren't blind as Luck or whimsical like Fortune, are you?" The voice asked. "You have a conscience. Very well." The apparition slowly settled to the ground. Two delicate hands emerged from the folds of the cloak and removed the hood hiding the figure's face. Revealed to Wren was a beauty that belonged only to the children of Oberon.

Wren noticed the beauty was tall and lithe like many Fae. Her skin was paler than alabaster and her eyes were crystalline blue. Long flowing tendrils of spun gold fell about the Fairy's shoulders as she stood still for Wren to scrutinize her. Wren studied the uniquely blunt widow's peak of strawberry blond on the regal brow. She studied the simple clarity of blue that shown in the woman's eyes. "You're definitely a Child Of Oberon. But, I'll be honest, I can't place you."

"Think to the time of Armand's trial." The voice gently urged her. "I was not One, but part of three. We never spoke, but our eyes met. I nodded to you and you did the same in return."

"Doesn't sound familiar. What is your name?" The edge in Wren's voice softened slightly.

"I am Phoebe."

"I'm sorry. I don't recognize the name." She shook her head and shrugged helplessly. "You are being straightforward, aren't you?"

"More so that I have ever been in my existence." Phoebe agreed. "I know you, Wren Elizabeth Summers. You are of Puck's loins two generations past. You are god killer and trickster. You carry Oberon's weapon as your own and with his blessing. You are a maverick amongst our people and they don't know what to make of you. You are lost and alone in a world that you neither understand nor embrace."

"Thank you for the psycho analysis, Dr. Freud." Wren chuckled. "One of three . . . "

It had been so long. She raced through her recent time spent on Avalon and all those whom she had met. She knew Coyote as friend. She distrusted Raven. She considered Lady Titania a benevolent patron and her Lord as supreme ruler of Avalon. She knew Grandmother, avoided Banshee and of course there were always the Weird Sisters . . .

The Weird Sisters. Wren avoided them because they gave her the heebie-jeebies. One had black hair, one was pure white and the other one was a strawberry blond. The look of recognition crossed her face as the phrase fell from her lips. "You're one of the Weird Sisters, the strawberry blond. Your name is Phoebe?"

"Yes." She said simply.

"Okay, I haven't broken any of Oberon's laws." Wren rushed through the words. "I've been a good girl. I've done what I'm supposed to have done. What does Oberon want of me now?"
"Nothing. He doesn't know that I'm here." Phoebe pushed the hood back onto her shoulders. "I need something from you."

"You've got the wrong girl." Wren held her hands up to ward off the Fae. "I stay out of Avalon's politics and I mean to keep it that way. Whatever you think, I'm actually just your run-of-the-mil Fae/ human/gargoyle hybrid. I'm a bit off my rocker and I'm good at blackjack. Otherwise, I'm not as powerful as you think. A lot of it is good planning and -"

"Luck." Phoebe finished. "Luck that you melded to your liking. You have the ability to alter reality to a way that you see fit. You are the fourth aspect of Fate."

"I don't believe in Fate."

"That's because it doesn't affect you." Phoebe countered. "You affect IT."

"What do you mean?"

"You are the other side of Fate. You are Destiny." Phoebe explained.

Wren shot the Fae a look as though she was quite mad. "They're the same thing, Phoebe. You promised me no riddles. Talk straight or I walk."

Fate, Sweet Child, is a force viewed as unalterably determined events. Destiny is similar, but it is of one's own choosing. It is crafted of faith and circumstance, luck. Fate, however, is carved in stone and lacks mercy."

"You're part of Fate." Wren nodded in understanding. "But, your loom was destroyed long ago."

"Fate is only as powerful as those who believe in it." Phoebe circled Wren slowly. "Destiny is drawn from mortal's hopes and dreams . . . much like this place is drawn from the most ancient of your memories."

"You're speaking in riddles."

"And that vexes you?" Phoebe crossed her arms and studied the young Nightkind. Wren's tail lashed furiously in annoyance.

"Very much so." She sighed.

"My sister Selene, the dark-haired one-" Phoebe supplied.

"I know which one she is." Wren stopped her. "I didn't know she had a name."

"Well, she does. She recently looked in on MacBeth and Demona."

"Oh shit." Wren's face paled. "I remember the tale MacBeth told me. You three are responsible for the entire mess of him being immortally linked to her in the first place! You're the ones that destroyed his life and pushed Demona over the edge. He told me about how you three viciously used him as pawns in your twisted little plan of revenge. And you think I want to do business with you!? You're freakin' nuts. Get out my dream."

"We three must act as one by Oberon's will. It is how our magick is most powerful." Phoebe agreed. "But, since your trial... I have not been pleased being part of this triad. I wish for my independence and freedom from Luna and Selene. I think you're the key in making that happen."

"Oh, really?" Wren asked sarcastically. "Oberon linked you three together, right?"


"I'm not stupid. I know what happens when Oberon's will is defied." Wren shrieked. "I have no desire to suffer his wrath."

"Selene is now acting independently of the triad and is thinking about manipulating your friends to her liking. It may mean their destruction. I offer you a proposal." Phoebe said desperately.

"My friends?"' Wren turned to look at Compassion personified. "Meaning MacBeth and Dominique?"

"Yes." Phoebe nodded. "You are Luck. Whether you like it or not, you are the fourth aspect of this nexus. What you lack in firepower, you compensate for in stealth and ability. Use not what you have with all you have, use what you have to the best of its utilization. That is how you develop ability."

"All right.... what's your proposal?" Wren asked rather intrigued by the undeniable honesty of this Child of Oberon.

"Simple. Help me break free of the triad. Help me stop my sister Selene from meddling in the affairs of those whom we've hurt, Wren. I'm tired and I don't want any part of it. In exchange, I'll help you protect MacBeth and Demona. I'll also tell you the true story of Orion."

That stopped the Nightkind in her tracks. "I already know the tale, Phoebe. Nice try. Orion was hatched from the same rookery as Demona and Goliath in 938. He grew up to be good with a bow and a renowned hunter amongst the clan. However, most thought it strange he never took a mate. He and a dark warrior were always together and the best of friends. While it was never discussed openly, it was suspected that the Hunter and the Dark Warrior were in love. I know that there was pressure for the Dark Warrior to take a mate...he was to ask Atalanta when the clan was destroyed in 994."

"All true." Phoebe laid a hand on Wren's shoulder. "But how much do you remember of that time?" How much of yourself do you see as the Hunter?"
"Very little." Wren felt the words wrested from her throat. "Demetrius won't talk about it."

"Also, I know things about your bloodlines and your family that you might find interesting."

"If I agree to this proposal, will any mortals or Fae be hurt?" Wren asked.

"It's a possibility, but doubtful.' Phoebe pulled the hood of her cloak over her face. "Your powers will increase greatly if the veil of amnesia is removed. Truth and revelation will be yours."

"If that were done for Dominique, it would be her downfall."

"It isn't the same, Sweet Child." The figure began hovering above the ground. "For you, it is that veil that halts your growth and your is not amnesty for past transgressions."

"You know a lot." Wren studied her suspicion. "How do you know so much?

"At the moment, more than my sister. I choose to make it my business." Phoebe's voice echoed inside Wren's mind. "Even as we speak, she seeks Demona and wishes to cast a spell upon her for her own agenda. You may be the only one who can stop her."

"When do we meet again?"

"Call to me in your dreams, Wren." The ethereal figure vanished in the heavy mists brought in by the night breeze. "Stop Selene's magick from hurting your friends and you might break the triad. Do this and I will be free. Do this and I will be in your debt."

"I don't want you in my debt." Wren called to the silent night around her. She found it to be daylight. [Damn, how does she do that?]


Castle Wyvern 991

Goliath and two of his best lieutenants flew along the southern parameter of Castle lands. Occasional raids by the Vikings had made the King wary of further attacks by the Norsemen. The trio flew in perfect symmetry over the fields that grew that season's wheat and barley. One of the Sires carried the night's fresh kill as they returned to the castle. The Ebony Sire alongside him came in closer and nodded his approval.

"We shall be dining upon fresh venison this night, My Hunter." The Ebony Sire's lavender eyes twinkled merrily as he spoke the words. "Again, you have proven your prowess with the bow."

"Given my chance, I shall allow my aim to prove my prowess again." The Sire carrying the Buck winked at his rookery mate. "If you are able to withstand another bout...."
"You vex me thus!" The growl filled the air as the Dark Warrior nudged the Hunter playfully with his tail. "You will surely be my undoing."

"Perchance, that is what I want and what you need."

"My Brothers, take the kill to our Elder and he shall divide it amongst the clan." Goliath instructed them. He watched the two young warriors as they engaged in their ribald talk. While he didn't approve of the brothers' love for one another, he wished they would do things properly and formally become mates before the clan.

The Dark Warrior had spoken with Goliath about only once. The Hunter had refused to speak of it at all. It was consensus that Humans thought Gargoyles to be Beasts. The Humans would surely think them demons if they knew that Brother loved brother with a passion that dared not be spoken. Sire loving Sire was forbidden by the Human religion they all feigned to follow. It would incur further mistreatment of the clan if the two lovers publicly declared their love.

The Hunter pondered the grim reality as he and the Dark Warrior headed for their mentor. It wasn't long until Sunrise. The Tan warrior cast a loving glance in the direction of the ebony sire at his side. His heart hung heavy in his chest as he studied the younger Gargoyle. Only a few seasons separated them, yet it seemed like decades. He never understood why his heart belonged to another male. It had been a strange occurrence after the English only ten seasons prior in a harsh battle had killed his mate. The hunter mourned the loss of his newly found mate and resigned himself to a life of bitter loneliness.

Then, the dark young warrior with sleek muscles and eccentric charm had caught him unawares one night as he taught him to string a longbow. One thing had led to another and the Hunter found himself bewitched by the black buck so hungry and eager for love. The older Gargoyle dismissed it as a passing fancy, yet the black one's persistence chipped away at his heart. Seasons past and the Hunter gave into to the love that claimed him. He had prepared the mating den for his Dark Angel of Twilight and taken him there. They had went to den and loved fiercely and well. They made their vows only in the presence of the Moon and the stars.

The Hunter remembered how he had recited the ancient words no longer spoken by the younger ones of the clan. "Where you go, I shall go. Where you lead, I will follow. Where you are, I shall be. What you are, so shall I become. What you endure, so shall I know. I shall never leave you and be with you always."

Five seasons later, the Hunter's heart burst with unending love for the Dark Warrior at his left wing. Humans or not, he wanted to take this Beloved sire as his mate. He longed to make it right before the Clan Elders. He knew the goddess supported their love. After all, she had spoken to the Hunter in dreams. He had beseeched the Fates with a way to allow them to be together always? Compassion intervened but had said it was not without great price. It would destroy the clan. It would save the clan. .

An ominous meteor streaked across the sky. The Hunter looked up and saw it blazing fire and headed toward his Beloved Dark Angel. He cried out to the winged Warrior. It happened so quickly. The Hunter dove in a nosedive and knocked the ebony warrior from the streaking path of the meteor. There was a bellow of pain and the roar of surprise as the young buck watched his rookery brother plummet to Earth. The fiery rock slammed into the Hunter's mid section.

Goliath heard the roars in the dark heavens. He turned to see his lieutenant swiftly following the path of a meteor that had caught the Hunter. He went into full warrior mode as he also gave chase to the blazing rock that threatened to consume the hunter in earth and flame. A rose flame surrounded both the falling star and Gargoyle as they plunged to Earth there was a roar and a hiss. The skies opened and the darkness claimed the Hunter and his falling star. Then, they were gone.

2:59:52 AM February ll, 2006

Wren sat upright as she remembered the dream with frightening clarity. She swiftly rose from her bed and cast a glance at the sleeping Gargoyle at her side. If what Phoebe said was true, then there was little time to warn Dominique. She let loose all propriety as she made a made dash to Dominique's room. She quickly opened the door and found a raven-haired wraith floating a few feet from the crying Dame.

"I don't think so, Selene." Wren hollered at the celestial Fae hovering over a very unaware Dominique. Wren heard the last words fall from full red lips and hands glow with rose fire. Wren's tail wrapped around the apparition's wrists and gave a good yank. She dove to knock Dominique from her bed as the blushing rays of Faerie Fire fell from Selene's fingertips.

"What have you done?" Selene's screech of fury brought Dominique from her sorrowful reverie. In the next few seconds, all was sheer and utter chaos. Wren sent Dominique rolling to the floor while she held onto the vengeful Fay.

A verdant aura clashed violently with the gentle rose. There was a hissing as if molten lava hit arctic water. The rose and verdant streams of light entwined as though they were serpents fighting for supremacy. Dominique watched in silent awe as the two Fae rolled in midair across the room. The dusky trails of Selene's magick surrounded Wren. "By the Shores of Avalon, Mireblood! You've ruined everything. The spell wasn't meant for you."

"Tough luck, Bitch." Wren snarled with a Dame's ferocity. "Hurt the once I protect and you'll find out just what IS meant for you."

"You don't understand." Selene tried to break free of the grip. "Your magick has altered the spell. Now, I can't control the outcome. Oberon only knows what will come through the portal."

"What do you mean?" A tail let loose of the wrists as they both fell with a resounding thud to the floor. Wren quickly straddled the Fae.

"Look!" Selene pointed to the glowing mass of rose and emerald above them. "It begins."

The rose and verdant merging of magick reminded Wren of roses on vines climbing ancient stone walls. She watched in mute fascination as they widened above her. She cast a glance at the violet -eyed witch struggling beneath her who seemed more horrified with each passing minute. A cold look of horror crossed her features.

"It's you who can undo Avalon's magick." She gasped. "You're the one who altered the spell placed upon Dominique and MacBeth."

"I haven't cast any spell on them. I can't." Wren hissed. She gave into the urge to hit the annoying Fae. A good right hook made impact with the beauty's delicate jaw. She glared for a brief instant at the Nightkind sitting triumphantly above her. Then, her head crashed to the floor as the blow struck home. Selene's crystalline blue eyes fluttered and then closed as the blow accomplished its intentions.

"Dominique, go get Demetrius, MacBeth and Tina right now." She ordered the bewildered Dame. "And tell them we need iron chains...restraints...whatever it takes to hold this chick in place. "Get Timron while you're at it. We need all the help we can get to restrain this wench."

"What about you?" Dominique looked at the forming roses of neon hovering only a few inches above Wren. "What about.... that thing that's above you?"

"I can't change it now. It's already done. I'll be fine. Just GO." She whispered desperately. "Please."

"All right. Just don't let anything happen to you." Dominique folded her wings and scurried on all fours from the bed. She ran hand over foot down the hall to get the others.

Wren felt as though she were playing limbo. She rolled the unconscious Fae from beneath her and propped her up beside the bed. The Magick moved slowly, almost indecisively, nearer Wren. She glared at the verdant and green mass that looked like an electronic rose garden. "Well, damn it! Make up your mind. Either do your thing or get the hell out of here."

She heard a bellow and a roar. There was a loud crash and the splintering of wood as floor fragments flew everywhere. Wren rolled the unconscious Selene out of the way as the implosion ruined the bedroom floor. Wren felt several splinters in her back and knew that Tina would be using her skills to remove wood fragments from her back. She crawled battered and bruised to the indention made in hardwood floor and looked to the floor below.

Wren nearly fainted at the sight. She leapt down from the second story and examined the marvel lying on her kitchen table. She saw a very large gargoyle lying unconscious holding a massive bolder to his chest. She carefully removed the rock and set it on the floor. He was cut and bloody, but she could tell he'd be all right with a concrete catnap. She noticed that he seemed quite handsome. He had flaxen hair the color of honey and gold. It was wavy and fell well past his broad shoulders. His skin was the color of tan suede with a hint of darker brown in his wings. She pulled back the lids of the unconscious warrior and stared into eyes the color of jade and moss. They were hazel. She felt for a pulse at the base of his neck and found him to be alive and strong. What she didn't care for were the arrows strewn about her kitchen and embedded into her brand-new refrigerator.

"Milady, what is all the commotion?" Demetrius protectively ran into the kitchen.

"Him." She pointed to the Gargoyle.

Tina examined his eyes and took his pulse. She felt along his body for broken bones. "He's going to be a hurting unit, I'll need my medical bag and some splints for his arms. We'll need to tape his ribs. Several are fractured. Is he a regular Gargoyle? Give him a little sleep during the day and he'll be fine?"

"Yes, I mean.... I think so." Wren stammered to the resident Doctor. "I'm not sure. I've never seen this Gargoyle before in my life. I'm lost."

"I have seen this Gargoyle, Milady." A grave voice broke in on their exchange. "I know him well."

"How? Where did he come from?" Tina asked the Dark Warrior.

"I know him well. He is the Hunter."

Wren pulled away from Demetrius in disbelief. "You're joking, right? You don't mean THE Hunter as in ...Orion?"

"That is what the Humans called him, Love."

"Then that means he's...."

'You." Demetrius finished.

It was a chaotic hour. MacBeth took great relish in wrapping Selene in several yards of iron chain that he just happened to have in his traveling trunk for just such an occasion. He also slipped a ball-gag in place for good measure. When asked how he came about such a device, he told Tina that he liked to "play rough both in the boardroom and the boudoir." She promptly attended to other matters.

Dominique sat bemused by the entire scenario. Timron wisely led her from the scene and told her that Wren had spared her from being the victim of a very unwanted magickal spell. MacBeth gleefully took to guarding the unconscious Fae with the swelling jaw. Tina studied her two friends and wondered who was more shaken: Demetrius or Wren. "So, this big lummox lying on your two thousand dollar table is you... or your previous incarnation from the tenth century?"

"So it would seem." Wren shook her head. She brushed away an errant tendril. The strong line of that Gargoyle jaw fascinated her. She saw angular cheekbones and horns not unlike those of a ram. She looked at the thick column of neck and found that he wore a thing white-gold torc that resembled knots and braids. She noticed the platinum hoops and armbands he wore. She stole a glance to Demetrius and remembered that he wore the very same attire from time to time.

"I can see why you fell in love with him." She searched for words. "Demetrius, he's beautiful."

"But what brought him to us?" Demetrius sat perched on the chair with wings cloaked. "Why is he here and why now?" There was an audible catch in his deep voice. "By the Dragon, why now?"

Words of Gaelic filled the room. Stunned, Wren turned to find the Hunter awake and reaching out to Demetrius. Her mind automatically translated the words. As he spoke them, they echoed inside her mind and she found herself saying them in unison with the golden warrior. "My Dark Angel."

Demetrius looked at the Hunter. He glanced at Wren. He looked at them again and wondered to whose arms should he run.


Don't you just love the tweaks and twists of the Deniverse? Hate 'em?!? Well, then... let me know. All adoring praise and flames can be sent to