Page 65 of Even Angels fall
Angélique
“You’re magnificent.”
Elhyor’s voice is just above a whisper, but it spreads goosebumps over my skin.
My mind continues to replay what he said outside. It sounded a lot like he was claiming me, and that’s not what I came for. I should be appalled by the machismo behind those words, but it felt… right. It might also have helped that he didn’t make it sound like I needed saving.
He couldn’t deny that my situation could have been a lot worse when he arrived and that I was handling things, in a bloody way, for sure, but I was handling them just fine.
I don’t know what I should feel about the fact he burned the leader ofLibérationon the spot… for me.
And now this.
You’re magnificent.
It’s so at odds with what I’m used to that I’m not sure I know how to process these words.
As if he knows, he softly squeezes my fingers in his hand as we pass the double doors of Notre Dame.
But it’s all squished down when I hear the first gasps in the cathedral as we pass the doors.
For just a minute, I forgot what color my wings were, what they embody and what I’m made of, but those gasps are a painful reminder that I’m not normal in this world.
I’m cursed.
I’m one of the fallen, and there’s no place on Earth I’ll pass as normal.
At least they don’t look as scared as the humans outside. They just look… surprised?
And what is it that I hear them say now?
“Is that her own blood?”
“Has she never shifted before?”
“It’s a shame her father kept her hidden.”
”She’s glorious.”
I don’t know what to make of what they’re saying. There is no shame or disgust in their eyes—okay, maybe the latter in the guy who asked if it was my own blood—and I’m not used to this kind of greeting.
And to be honest, yes, some of the blood is mine, but I think there’s more from the people who tried to capture me.
I must be a sight like this. A doll without hair, covered in the blood of her enemies, daggers still dripping with blood, and wings like the devil himself at her back.
And yet, they don’t see my curse. I haven’t heard any of them mutter about them being a bad omen.
They’re all staring at us as if there’s something to say, as if I have an explanation for what just happened.
Elhyor raises his hand, and the whispers stop altogether.
“There will be no battle tonight. Bastian is no more. But this isn’t over. We must prepare for what’s to come, because iftonight was any proof of the humans unrest, it means they won’t stay quiet as the shifters oppress them.”
I can hear someone at the back muttering, “The birds are the oppressors. We didn’t ask for any of this.”
”I know we didn’t start this, and I thought I could keep us neutral, but this won’t be enough,” Elhyor responds
I don’t know how he thought marrying me would make anything feel neutral to anyone, but I keep my mouth shut. This isn’t the moment to ask.
