“Hmm, we can cut some uncurable bark off the trees in the forest or de-weed the tulips near the front doors,” he suggests. “New girl’s choice.”
“I’m going to go with the bark first,” I say, and I cut another rose off, well aware of Thallon’s eyes on me, staring at me like he can’t figure out exactly who I am.
And at this point, neither can I.
Chapter 15
“My legs hurt, my arms hurt, even my brain is hurting right now!” Vesnia groans, wiping away a line of sweat from her forehead. I do the same, sucking in a deep breath after the five-mile run around the academy the “lovely” gym teacher, Professor Martin, made us do. We all thought spear class was getting easier now we know a little how to fight with the spears without hurting ourselves, but the gym has stepped up its mark.
“Looking tired, darlin’,” Henry drawls from somewhere nearby, and I straighten my back, turning around just as he gets to me. “Can’t handle gym?”
“I can handle it just fine,” I protest, placing my hands on my hips as Professor Martin comes over, placing a hand on Henry’s shoulder.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Ravaric?”
“Professor Louton needs to see you. She asked me to watch your class for a moment seeing as I had finished my exam,” Henry explains like a good dark angel, smile and all.
“Very well. Do not cause trouble, young king,” Professor Martin taps Henry’s shoulder a few times before walking out of the gym. Henry pulls a flask out of his jacket and walks to the benches on the other side of the room, sitting down and taking a long sip. He then lights a joint of weed, right here in front of everyone and takes a long drag. Before I think about it too much, my feet walk me straight up to him, and I pluck the joint out of his hand. Dropping it on the floor, I watch his ember eyes as I crush the joint under my shoe.
“Rude, darlin’,” he mutters, leaning back on the bench behind him. I take a seat next to him, pulling my legs up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them.
“It’s no good for you and illegal where I come from,” I tell him.
“It’s not illegal where I buy it from, so that’s all that matters,” he replies. “Are you trying to save my soul, darlin’?”
“What do you think Professor Louton wanted to see Professor Martin about?” I curiously ask, ignoring his question.
“Fallen angels or at least one fallen angel they both went to the academy with,” he says.
“What’s a fallen angel?” I ask.
“Shit, they haven’t taught you this yet? You’ve been here two weeks now,” he mutters and rubs his eyes in clear annoyance. “Fallen angels are angels who willingly step into hell. An angel recently jumped into hell for a demon he fell in love with, and now everyone is mad.”
“Whoa,” I whisper.
“But the new queen of hell released all the spirits that the old king locked up in hell, and now there is a natural balance. For some reason, the angels are more scared than ever, I can sense it,” he tells me.
“Is that a dark angel power?” I ask.
“Sort of. We can all sense when someone is scared,” he explains. “That is an angel power.”
“Why did you choose to become a dark angel?” I ask.
“Because my soul lives in the dark, and if you’re honest with yourself, Kaitlyn, you will find your soul belongs in the dark with me.”
I don’t move as he gets up, ditching the class he promised to look after, without looking back once.
Keeping my head down, I head through the gardens, running my fingers over some red flowers I don’t know the name of. Sundays are my favourite day at the academy when the students all stay in their rooms or the dining hall, eating, the teachers are absent, and the world seems a little slower. Like it isn’t trying to knock me off it with every turn it takes. I don’t look up for a long time, having no clue where I’m walking until I come to a gate. I look up and see Thallon leaning against his cabin, his arms crossed over his light blue shirt and a friendly smile that’s always there for me. He has some logs in his arms, and I’m guessing he came out to get them to restock his fire.
“Thallon what is a fallen angel exactly, and why is it bad to become one?” I ask. I don’t know why I think he will tell me, but I do.
His eyes widen for a brief moment before he sighs and pushes the front door of his home open. “You best come inside for that conversation, sweetheart.”
He holds the door open for me as I step into his cabin, which smells of fresh laundry and the burning wood from the open fireplace tucked into the corner of the large room. Unlike Henry’s house, this place has no rooms and is completely open plan other than a bathroom I can’t see. One side of the room has a small kitchen with dark wood counters, a glass table for two, and a bookcase jammed with random books. In the middle of the room is a giant four-poster bed, the posts of which are hand-carved into horses that are jumping into the air. They match the gold sheets and big white faux fur blanket hanging over the bed. The fireplace has a TV hanging on the wall above it, and on either side is a beautiful painting of horses running in a field. There is a cosy leather sofa and coffee table facing the fireplace, with one glass of what looks like whiskey on a coaster on top.
“My mum always said it was terrible to ruin a table with the bottom of a glass. We had coasters everywhere around the house because my dad would constantly buy them for her when he had to travel,” I say rather randomly as Thallon closes the door.
“Your parents sound very in love,” he replies. “Would you like a drink?”
“Yes, they are, and I’d love a cup of tea,” I say, walking into his space, noticing the piles of books on his bedside tables and a small unfinished wooden horse sculpture, and a knife next to it with some wood carvings. “Milk and one sugar please,” I say to his unasked question as I choose to sit on his sofa, crossing my legs. The room is oddly silent as he makes the tea; the only sounds are the kettle boiling and the spoon hitting the cup as he mixes the tea.
“Thank you,” I say, accepting the red cup, and Thallon sits down next to me, picking up his drink. I don’t dare sip the tea until it’s cooled down, but Thallon downs his whiskey in one go before putting the empty glass back down.
“I presume you know fallen angels are angels that went into hell and lost their wings, becoming the fallen,” he asks, and I nod. I didn’t know they lost their wings though. “The only angel known to make this choice was Lucifer, the previous king of hell. But recently an angel I was friends with made a choice to go into hell after his mate.”
“Why would he do that?” I ask. “Losing his wings for his mate...it sounds terrible.”
“At the academy, they will teach you that not only is magic the most powerful thing in this world, but so is love. I don’t know why Morgan did what he did, but I know he did it for love,” he answers me. “But why do you ask about fallen angels now?”
“I heard the teachers are worried,” I admit, and he frowns.
“It’s not the fallen angel that has them worried, but what the balance of the souls has done to another race,” he explains, though I can tell he is holding back some truth here. “Not every race in the world gets along, and any change makes ripples across the world that we all feel.”