“Fallen,” the lackey snaps, and I realise I’ve stopped just before the grand double doors. The grandiose entrance is another game for them, used to intimidate and show their wealth and power, but I’m starting to learn some of the strongest of our kind do not need tricks to amass fear and love—it’s simply just them.
Gritting my teeth, I step up next to him and he leans closer. “Worthless dog,” he spits, and then pushes the door open, striding inside with his head held high like he owns the place, even though he’s nothing more than a servant. When they are bored with him, they will toss him away like they do everything else.
I know the drill by now, so I wait, not wanting to give them an excuse to punish me. He strolls down the empty aisle of chairs. There is no court or ceremony today, so the space is empty save for the council members who sit at the end of the way too fucking long room filled with candelabras, chandeliers, and golden chairs like they are kings of old.
Pretentious bastards.
Veyo sweeps into a low bow, almost scraping the floor. “My lords and ladies, our esteemed council, may I present, as your humble servant, the fallen they call Griffin.” He stands and turns, and everyone does the same to see me standing at the door.
I hesitate. If I cross over this threshold, I’m giving them power over me even if they don’t know it. I’m giving them everything, my very life...for her.
It’s worth it, after all, like my mother said, if I’m not fighting for love...what am I fighting for? I step through the doorway, my head held high, and storm down the aisle towards them. They get no theatrics from me, and they don’t expect me to beg and scrape, they know me too well, know that I hate them, so if I started to act otherwise they would suspect me as a mole or a spy straightaway. No, I need to play this right.
This time my fight is with words and intelligence, not my swords and wings.
I don’t bow. Instead, I tilt my head back, letting my eyes run across all five council members.
To the left and in the first seat is the least powerful of all the council. At only four hundred years old, the vampire, Harald, is practically a baby, but he’s known for his mean streak and made his way to the council by carving a bloody path to the position and clambering for power.
Next to him is the second least powerful, an incubus named Derrin. No one knows where he originally comes from, but I know better than to get on his bad side. He can be kind when he needs to be, but don’t let that angelic smile and charm fool you, he’s one mean bastard. They have to be to sit on the council.
In the middle is Amos, the head of the council and the man who ordered my mother’s and father’s deaths. His eyes gleam in triumph as he watches me, thinking he has finally broken me, finally got what he wanted. He is the worst of them all. The others pity me, see me as amusement, a servant, but Amos? He wants to crush me, rebuild me in his image, and own me as his own personal fucking dog. He plays games the way others breathe, his every word a move on the chessboard, and I just stepped onto the checker opposite him.
Next to him is Gina, a shifter, and the only female to sit on the council, but she is the biggest snake of them all. She spies for the men, using her sexuality and charm to get what she needs. I’m pretty sure she’s fucking both Amos and Derrin. Her icy eyes lock on me in hunger, not for my body but for the secrets I hold and the surrender she wants from me. She is one ice-cold bitch.
On the very right is the last member of the council. No one knows what or who he is. All we have is a name—Titus. There are rumours that he was sent from the sleeping council as their spy, and it could be true. No one can get close enough to him to even know his true name or what he is or capable of. His seat was empty up until about six hundred years ago when he suddenly appeared and took the chair overnight. The council did not explain why, but you could see they were unhappy about it. Even now he’s leaning to the side, reclined and relaxed, watching everything happen with sharp eyes while distancing himself from the council pigs...he appears almost angry. Well, me fucking too. He catches me staring, and his lips turn down in a frown for a moment as he takes me in before he blanks his face into one of disinterest, and then leans back like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
Amos speaks first, as always. “Fallen, this is a highly unusual occurrence. We did not call for your...services, did we?” His tone is mocking as he looks at the others who shake their heads, all the while knowing they didn’t. Dramatic bunch of bitches, all of them. “I didn’t think so, so tell me, fallen, why are you here?”
This is where it either goes really right or really fucking wrong. I need to make them believe I want to be part of this again without them thinking it’s a trick or laying it on too thick. With a sneer, I start, but make sure to drop my eyes just a fraction to seem somewhat respectful. “You asked me once to stay here, to be closer to the council. I’m tired of the sheep, tired of the stupid fucking hunts I’m sent on. I’m tired,” I admit, and let some of my true frustration leak into my voice. “Tired of sitting on the fence, of not being in either world. I—” I rip open my old wounds, my own fears of never being good enough, and hand it to them on a platter, knowing they will use it against me, but she’s worth it. “I want to be part of this world, I want to belong, to have a family and a home again.”
That’s the key to making them believe, to show them I still hate them but they are the lesser of two evils...to make them think they have finally broken me. My hands are clenched into fists from being so close to vengeance, yet giving my fucking enemies everything they want.
One of them laughs, I can’t tell who. “Took him long enough, fucking experiment.”
I grind my teeth, wanting to lash out, but I control the urge...just.
“If you truly feel that way, boy, you are, of course, welcome here, but we need to trust you, depend on you, so we need your obedience. Prove that to us,” Amos declares, sounding sincere, but I can see the glee in his eyes.
I know what he wants, the only thing I never gave him, gave them—my loyalty...my servitude. They want to see me on my knees before them, showing everyone that their power is beyond measure, that they can control everybody, even the fallen who evaded their clutches for years. That I’m finally theirs to do with what they wish.
Sucking in a breath, I force myself to fall to my knees in the same place my mother was slain. I kneel before the people who wielded the sword. I hate them, I knew it before, but this...this rage towards them is morphing into a hatred so strong I can barely contain it.
I want to see them dead and bathe in the ashes of their demise. I want their blood coating my wings and hands knowing I finally got my revenge. I want their screams, I want their weaknesses, but I can’t. Because my mate comes first.
Save her, then together we can kill them, because these smug bastards are as corrupt as they come, that much is clear, and I’m not letting them get away with it anymore.
They killed my father.
Murdered my mother.
Stripped me of my wings.
I survived it all, but what I can’t survive is them taking my mate from me, thinking she’s disposable, that she is theirs to bend to their whims.
They will pay for it.
I will unleash the madness they created in me, becoming their worst fucking enemy. They won’t see it coming, thinking they can control everyone and everything, but for now I bite my tongue and lower my head, staring lasers into the floor as my knees hit the marble with an audible boom.