Page 15 of Wrath of One
I want desperately to believe it.
Eight
Izara
The Messenger acts like nothing ever happened in those woods. Like he hadn’t just ripped Syko’s beautiful wings from his back and destroyed his chances of ever flying again. Like he didn’t just break a deal I made with my father.
He’s laughing with his gargoyle creatures and weird demons that look like a cross between geese and blobs of slime. Their eyes bulge from their small faces, and when they open their mouths, their tongues have teeth.
Fucking. Teeth.
What the fuck kind of demon hybrids is he breeding in hell? I’ll never look at a goose the same way again, I swear.
That inky gaze flicks to me with nothing but malice as I storm up to the thrones. My hand burns the whole way, and my heart beats incredibly fast. There are tears burning the backs of my eyelids, but I refuse to shed them at all. Not when the force of my anger is stronger than my sorrow and begging to be unleashed. My men were threatened. My best friend and lover washarmed.
My father sits up straighter on his throne as I storm before him. By now, I know everyone is looking, watching to see what’s wrong, what I will do. It’s probably the ephemeral glow of my power, surrounding me. I’ve unleashed it in its full capacity, and a burning golden light surrounds my body, the static destruction of what lives inside me causing my hair to stand on end. Flickering tendrils of shadow rise around me, and I know I must look formidable. I know because I feel it.
My Prod is a force to be fucking reckoned with.
I stop in front of my father’s throne. He sits up straighter, his eyes flickering with surprise as he takes in my angry stance and the violence emanating from me. He leans back ever so slightly on the throne, resting one arm across the armrest, crossing one leg over the other.
He looks elegant and in charge, as always.
The backs of my knuckles burn as hotly as the rage inside.
A pixie buzzes near my ear and angrily, I slap it away with my palm, sending it hurtling in circles through the air in a buzz of angry chattering.
“You promised!” My chest heaves as I hurl the accusation at him. “You fuckingpromised me!”
His eyes narrow, and he drops both feet to the floor as he sits up straighter. “What are you on about?” His voice has none of the gentleness it should.
“You promised me my men would besafe!” I throw my crown right at him.
It hits him in the face and bounces off. He doesn’t even flinch, but I can feel the rippling of darkness and demonic power swirling around him. It brings a hush among the crowd.
Slowly, he unfurls himself from his dark, shadowy throne and stands to his full height to face me. I should fear his wrath, IknowI should fear the wrath of the one man who has the power to destroy me entirely.
But I don’t.
“What hashappened?” The question cuts through the air and sends an icy chill over the explosion of hell around us.
“Ask your preciousMessenger.”
His glare spans out across the demons who have gathered and are watching us with fearful, gleeful eyes until they stop on the Messenger. He growls out a command, calling his son forth.
In hulking strides, the Messenger appears at my side. It hurts to stand next to the fucker that hurt Syko, and I grit my teeth through it.
He bows arrogantly in our father’s direction and asks, “Yes?”
“What have you done?”
“I took care of a threat to your life.”
I can’t hold back any longer. I turn and shove against his body. It’s like touching stone, and it abrades my palms as I use my power to shove him. He staggers backwards with a growl.
“You hurt my nephilim! After Father forbade it!” I turn away from him and with gritted teeth demand, “Punish him.”
My father’s eyes flicker between the two of us as if he’s weighing the wisdom of his decision to have two children instead of sticking to just one.
