KnightMoor

And the Time will come when Paths of Light are covered in Darkness the Streets forlorn and desolate every Human Heart is filled with Fear and Hope has long since been forgotten. And when the Bloodmoon rises and a Pact is made then the Forces will be reassigned and Mankind meets its Fate. Thou seest, the Master of the longclawed Beasts Thou seest, the bloodspoiled Queen of Shadows Thou seest, the Lord of ghostly Faeryfolk Thou seest, the Dark Angel that fell from the Heavens.

         Isabelle Lightwood was beautifully dangerous. She always had been. She was in possession of that particular type of classic, almost Victorian beauty that girls always longed for and men always went for. Her long dark hair fell in wavy tendrils down around her face, like a curtain, mysterious and elegant as a park-walk at dusk. Her eyes were silver and framed by long lashes which cast shadows on her rosy cheeks. Her lips were bow-shaped and deep pink, and her smile, when she revealed it, was luminous. She was tall and curvaceous and very graceful, all legs and hips and bosom.         Isabelle was very beautiful, but she was rare in