The guys suggested that I cut back my hours at the hospital so I can get my nest in order. They keep mentioning my time and that we need to have everything ready. I’ll have to ask Joscelyn when I see her again about what they could possibly mean ...
There are five bedrooms total in the house on the third floor. I find myself standing outside of the door that should be Cyrus's, every day I enter his room and add things. I must look pathetic to my other mates. I hope that by having a room ready for him, he’ll magically appear, and everything will be okay. Standing just within the threshold of his room I look it over seeing if anything has been disturbed or if I need to add anything.
“Thana,” the rough, harsh voice of Azrael cuts through my inner monologue, causing me to turn and face him.
I must look horrible with the way that Azrael’s eyes widen as he looks me over.
“Have you seen Cyrus? Is he okay?” My voice quivers as I fight to keep the tears at bay.
Azrael’s face morphs from sadness to shock. “He should have been with you.” He searches the room for any sign of his son's presence.
“What do you mean he should have been with me?” I rush to Azrael’s side and grip his arm firmly. Gazing up into Azrael’s fathomless eyes I practically beg him for answers. “Please tell me, I feel like part of me is dying without him.” Tears stream down my cheeks in rivers. Exhaustion and depression are a bitch, both whittle away at any drive and ambition you have.
“The night you found your nest, he flew to his human mother’s grave.” Azrael sighs deeply as he caresses my cheek. Briefly, he looks over my shoulder then back down to me. “I wasn’t the best father or husband when his mother was alive. His fear of feeling anything is more than likely because of me.” He bends down and kisses my forehead. “I’m going to search for my boy. You stay with your mates. I’ll be back as fast as I can.” With that, Azrael vanishes in a wisp of smoke, leaving me with more questions than answers.
Strong hands grip my shoulders and I’m drawn back against my mate's chest. “Is there anything I can do?” Gage says softly through the bond. His thumbs dig into the muscles of my shoulders, massaging them, trying to comfort me the best way he knows how.
I turn in his arms and rest my head on his chest and sigh. “I’m not sure. Azrael says Cy was on his way back to me then vanished.” I turn my head so that my forehead is pressed between Gage's pecks. Slowly I wrap my arms around his waist, I need to feel grounded. The thought that Cyrus may have changed his mind about returning here makes my chest hurt.
Gage’s strong arms surround me, pulling me flush to his body and his wings wrap tightly around us, cocooning me in his white feathers. Hushed voices of my other mates filter through Gage's feathers. I hear him filling them in through the bond. I feel so powerless, and then I remember who my grandfather is.
“Raph?” I say urgently as I turn in Gage’s arms and push his wings apart.
“Yes, my precious love,” he says reverently as he drops to one knee before me. His pale eyes stare up at me, I know right now that if I asked for the world, he would give it to me.
“Can Uriel or Michael locate my grandfather?” The gears are turning a thousand miles a minute as I start to think of ways to locate my missing mate. If he is doing anything other than hiding, I need to know.
“Most definitely. But are you sure you wish to be put before him?” Raphael says, concerned, as he reaches up and takes my hand, holding it gently and rhythmically stroking his thumb along the back. It seems he’s trying to convince me not to go that route.
I break free of Gage’s arms and walk around the room that was supposed to be Cy’s. “According to scriptures, he is the greatest hunter of all of the archangels. If anyone one can find Cy, it's him.” The hum of the darkness within me is almost comforting right now. It reminds me of my wayward mate, and it gives me more reason to fight.
“If that is your wish, we shall depart now. It’s a short jump to the Angelic Realm to meet with Michael to find out where your grandfather is,” Raphael says. His words say one thing, but the look on his face says something completely different. Uncertainty and concern flash across his visage.
I move forward and wrap my arms around Raphael’s waist and rest my head on his chest. His wings fold tightly down around me, and we shoot up at a rapid speed without the use of his wings. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tighten my grip around his waistline. Fear bubbles up in my chest. We come to a sudden stop, and Raph starts to laugh. “I would never let you fall, my love.”
He opens his wings, and I get to see the Angelic Realm for the first time. It's so bright and vivid. Everything is absolutely stunning; it's so beautiful. I walk in a circle around Raphael keeping constant contact with his skin, afraid I may be shot back to where we were. “Do you like it?” Raph’s normally strong and sure voice quivers with hesitance.
Smiling broadly, I spin back to face him. “Like it? I love it!” I can't help but jump into his arms, and he laughs at my antics.
“Now, now none of that here!” a voice booms behind us.
Michael chuckles at us. My eyes widen, seeing him in his full battle armor. My eyes dart around quickly at all the other angels in long flowing robes. Panic starts to sink “Did I die?” I whisper to Raph as peer around cautiously, seriously afraid to let go of him now.
Raphael and Michael look at each other and laughing hysterically. “No, Thana, you haven’t died. But I can understand why you would think so,” Michael says kindly as he extends a hand to me.
“This is the Angelic Realm. It’s where the angels go between assignments.” I take Michael's offered hand and he leads me around the realm. “What brings you here today?” His eyes take on their golden hue as he stares down at me.
I look down at our joined hands and swallow hard, mustering all my courage. “I need to find my grandfather. My mate Cyrus is missing, and I believe my grandfather may be the only one that can help me find him.” I wince at the ache in my chest, thinking about Cyrus being hurt or dead. Cyrus being missing this long has started to have an ill effect on me.
Michael stops dead in his tracks, looking between Raphael and me. “Someone dared to steal your mate?”
I nod slowly.
“This cannot be allowed. You need your dark nephilim mate to survive.” My eyes widen at the truth bomb that Michael just dropped.
“Someone is trying to kill you, Raphael, by using your mate,” Michael says as he power walks, dragging me with him across the realm.
“I was half afraid you would say that old friend,” Raph says, looking from me to Michael as we practically chase him across the clouds.
“What do you mean someone wants to use me to kill Raph? How would that work? Archangels are impossible to kill.” I shake my head in disbelief.
Michael stops at the edge of a cliff then turns to look at me. His gaze has softened as he cups my cheek looking into my eyes. “If you die, Raphael dies. Being a hybrid, you need balance with your mates. Too many angels will eventually poison your dark nephilim side and kill you.” He draws in a slow deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment before looking at me again.
“Whoever did this knew what it would do to Raphael. Cyrus was targeted on purpose.” Michael releases me slowly then motions to the cliff.
“You need to travel from here alone Thana, the darkness at the bottom will hurt and or possibly kill Raphael. Your grandfather is down there. On the bright side, if you need help, Azrael will be able to assist you.” Michael leans forward and kisses my forehead before taking flight.
Raphael’s normally confident demeanor seems lessened as he looks at the cliff. “I won’t lie to you, Thana. I’m scared of you going down there alone.” Suddenly he scoops me up in his arms, crushing me to his firm chest. “Please come back to me.” His voice quivers as his nerves start to get the best of him.
Smiling, I caress his cheeks before I gently kiss his lips. “I will always come back to you. You were my first crush and now my first mate.”
&
nbsp; A smile slowly creeps across his lips as he stares at me.
“I’m not afraid of what I am anymore. I get that strength from you.” Lightly I kiss his lips one last time before breaking away from him. “See you soon,” I say, and dive over the cliff edge heading towards the abyss.
You know how the humans say it's not the fall that kills you; it’s the sudden stop at the bottom that gets you. I completely understand the saying now. Blasting through the darkened mist that separates the Angelic Realm from the Dark Realm is a culture shock. Dark winged beasts fly free, breathing fire at each other, waging war in the air. Things of nightmares roam loose within the realm, only held at bay by what appears to be a thin layer of mist.
A castle sits alone in the distance, surrounded by what looks to be a river of blood. My gut tells me my grandfather should be there. After all, someone of his rank should have a castle—or at least a really large house—to live in. I close the distance and land at the top of the stairs, not far from the front door. The skin on my arms feels like it's crawling; I look at my tattoos, and they seem to be moving.
Taking the hint, I release my three familiars. My raven has doubled in size, and he looks like something straight out of a horror novel. The black house cat is now a large panther beside me; it rubs its face on my leg, purring loudly. Fenrir has nearly tripled in size, his head is even with my shoulder, and I can almost look him in the eyes. I rest a hand on his shoulder as we move towards the front door. Just as I raise my hand to knock, the door flies open, and a huge man with smoke-gray wings stands before me. My own pale gray eyes stare back at me; he also has the same ash-blonde hair.
“Grandfather?” I say softly, almost afraid to offend the man before me. Wincing slightly, I brace for any kind of retaliation from the man before me.
He smirks and nods his head. “Indeed, I see my useless son actually did something right for once.” He opens the door wide and makes room for me to pass.
My familiars and I enter the castle cautiously. My eyes move constantly around the interior of my grandfather's home. The castle is a mix of gothic and baroque in design, the ornate vaulted ceilings mixed with the dark paint offset by gold filagree, is a unique mix. The skulls of various denizens of the Dark Realm line the walls—much like a hunter would display his trophies. The next section of the hall changes in design and has dozens upon dozens of different weapons on display. I almost feel like I’m in a chamber of horrors instead of my grandfather’s home.
“What do they call you, child?” Samael stops walking and remains about ten feet behind me, although the way his voice echoes through the cavernous halls makes it seem as if he’s standing all around me.
“Thana.” Pursing my lips, I tilt my head to the side, examining one of the weapons that line the walls. “My father, Nyx had named me. I know my name means death.” I shake my head and blacken my eyes before looking over at my grandfather. “I need to find my missing dark nephilim mate. Apparently, I’ll die without him.” I stare into Fenrir’s blood-red eyes. My wolf lowers his head, pressing it into my side and offering me comfort.
To my left there’s a room bathed in darkness, and with a flourish of Samael’s hand, the candles that line the walls ignite, illuminating the room in flickering fire. The floor appears to be blood stained slate with ornate markings carved into it. Samael walks past me across the room to what appears to be a throne where he decides to sit. It’s now that I realize this room must also double as a training room with all the swords and weapons lining the walls.
“You are more me than I ever could have imagined, Thana. You have my wings, eye color, and hair.” He smiles at me. “Whose progeny is your mate?” he asks curiously.
I eye up the yet more weapons lining the alcoves above the furnishings. I guess there’s always time for battle. “Azrael is Cyrus’s sire.” For once, mentioning Azrael doesn’t raise any fear in my chest; instead, pride blooms there.
“He has a very strong bloodline indeed—one worthy of my grandchild.” Samael strokes his chin before looking my familiars over.
“If anyone here has him, it would be the demon Asmodai. He’s wanted to get back at the archangels for centuries as well as Azrael for helping them.” Samael rises from his throne and walks over towards me and grabs his sword from the wall above my head, and almost immediately, his armor manifests in place.
Samael raises his hands high above me; a tingle, almost a ripple of energy, rolls over me like a bucket of water being dumped over my head. Once the feeling leaves, I look down, and I am fitted with my very own armor. The ornate armor fits my every curve perfectly protecting my vital organs. The color throws me off a bit; it's black and gold. It’s then that it dawns on me; my armor is a female version of my grandfather’s. “Am I ready, Grandfather?” I grin.
Pride fills Samael’s gaze as he looks his handy-work over. “You’re as ready as I can make you.” He touches Fenrir, adorning him with armor too and then repeats the process with my other two familiars.
“Do not fear the darkness within you, Thana. It is the greatest weapon at your disposal. Your power rivals my own, and that’s saying a lot.” He grins, moving past me to the front door. “Familiars return!” he booms, and immediately my familiars become tattoos all over again.
All these years, I never believed in myself because I was in between both species of nephilim. Mom didn’t know what to do with me because of what I could do. Dad shunned me because I wouldn’t do typical dark nephilim things. Mom would tell me to stifle my darkness; maybe my wings would whiten. After almost four hundred years of denying what I am, here’s my grandfather that sees me as a whole person. He sees the dark and the light in me and encourages me to be true to myself.
We walk across the wasteland, and I can feel the darkness hugging me like a long-lost friend. “Why did we hide my familiars?” I ask softly, not wanting to anger my grandfather.
“Easy, it will look like we are going to war if they walk with you. Like this” —he motions between the two of us— “it looks like we are less dangerous than we really are.” Samael smirks then pulls me into his side. “One day, Thana, you will realize just how powerful you are. And on that day, you will truly be free.” Samael looks down at me with a gleam in his eyes. He definitely knows something he’s not telling me.
For once in my existence, I feel as if I finally belong. Every step across the volcanic sands of the Dark Realm I start to understand little bits about myself. My blood hums, infused with the power of this side of my nature. So many years I stifled this side because of my mothers’ warnings. All her fears were unfounded, evidenced here by my grandfather’s existence.
Various nightmare creatures roam freely and steer clear of us as we cross the great desert heading to the monolith in the distance. “We must be ready for anything Thana, if it is Asmodai he will use your mate against you either through possession or torture,” Samael states matter of factly.
My eyes dart to my grandfather at the mention of Cyrus being tortured and rage instantly bubbles up in my chest. My fingernails lengthen into claws as I clench and unclench my fists. “How familiar are you with the stories of the old Gods?” Samael raises a single eyebrow as he stares straight ahead as we walk.
Shrugging my shoulders, I tilt my head to the side glancing at him briefly. “A little bit, Mom didn’t really take my education seriously, figuring I’d be cut down long before now.” Mom wasn’t exactly the most loving being; she grew even colder towards me once she found her true mates. I was dumped on my ass in the streets to fend for myself. Thankfully, Joscelyn’s family took me in until we were old enough to live on our own.
Samael pauses and shakes his head in disbelief of what my mother had done to me. “First of all, you’re not an abomination. Long before the current deity took the helm, valkyrie flew wild and free. They were divine judgment and death on the wings of a beautiful woman,” Samael says with a smirk. “He,” Samael points up, “retired them to the tree of life in the Angelic Realm.”
Double blinking, it takes me a few minutes to process what was relayed to me. I’m not an abomination and there’s others like me. Nodding slowly, I turn back to the scorched path before us, looking between the remnants of charcoaled trees. Beyond the river of blood on the other side of the blackened mist a black monolith rises up out of the base of the mountain. Winged creatures fly patterns around the entire length of the structure.
“Is that where we need to go?” I motion to the monolith, and Samael nods slowly. A hardened mask slips over what was a kind face. The years of war have forged a force to reckoned with. Muscles jump all over my grandfather's arm as his grip flexes on his sword's hilt.
“Once we enter the monolith, you may see people that claim to know you. That is where your wolf will come in handy. He can sense and reveal the true appearance of anything.” Samael lightly touches Fenrir.
“Trust his reactions; he will see the truth of everything. Your raven can investigate the route ahead of us and report back to you.” Samael motions to my raven.
“Your cat can be any size she needs to be; if there's a tight spot you need to get into, she can go first and pave the way.” I stare in disbelief at my grandfather’s explanation.
“Do you think Azrael gave me these familiars on purpose?” I glance at my pets, then look up at Samael.
He laughs and shake his head. “I told Azrael what familiars to give you. There’s a prophecy that one day my successor will be born of my rib to ease my burden.” An easy smile graces his lips for a second, then vanishes just as quickly.
I stop walking and stare in disbelief at my grandfather. “I’m not an archangel! There's no way I can fill your shoes.” Spreading my wings wide, I look them over; being here in the Dark Realm has darkened the veins on some of my feathers. “Tell me how I can save my mate.” Lightly, I stroke my raven, sending it to go scout the monolith.
Discovered: The Dark Angel Chronicles Page 10