I sigh heavily, overwhelmed with sadness. Despite everything, Abaddonisn’tlike his father. He might have learned those methods, but with me he’s been... well, notgentleexactly, but never cruel.
I glance back toward the dark stairwell.
He can learn there’s a better way.
Maybe there’s a reason I was brought to this damaged family. Perhaps there are more miracles to be discovered here than just my physical healing. Maybe, just maybe, I can bring some emotional healing, too?
I sigh again.
Or maybe nothing so lofty as that will happen if there’s been so much damage and trauma done here.
But I do know that even the biggest projects start one step at a time.
So I take the stairs to the kitchen, fill up two big buckets, and head back down to the dungeon.
THIRTY-EIGHT
ABADDON
I tellmyself I’m hunting as I soar through the darkening sky, seeking the male who dared clothe my Hannah-consort in their garments. But the lie tastes bitter on my tongue.
The truth? I’m fleeing. From words sharper than any claw she could have grown. From the way her voice cracked when she spoke of my brothers’ suffering—oursuffering. From the realization that everything I believed about strength and protection might be as twisted as the scars across my back.
“You’ve got him locked up in the dark. It’s atrocious.”
Her words echo in my skull, each repetition driving my wings harder against the wind. She called me a monster—not for my appearance, but for my actions. The distinction cuts deeper than Creator-Father’s whip ever did.
I roar my frustration to the empty mountains, the sound echoing off stone faces that have witnessed centuries of my anguish. How many times did I dream of someone who might understand? Someone who could see past these cursed features to whatever remained of my soul?
And when such a miracle finally arrived—brave, fierce,magnificentHannah—I responded exactly as he trained me. With dominance. With force. With the crushing weight of possession disguised as protection.
Only cowards use force, she’d said once. Had she been preparing me for this revelation even then?
My flight becomes erratic as memories surface unbidden. Creator-Father’s voice, silk-smooth and venomous:“You cannot even win a fight against your brothers, even though you are the superior destroyer.”
He had pitted us against each other constantly, three tortured souls clawing for scraps of approval that never came. When we fought too long without a victor, his bullwhip would separate us with scientific precision. Then came the aftermath—extra lashes for each of us, chained and helpless, while he cataloged our failures.
“The new monsters won’t have your flaws. They will be truly superior.”
But his newest creation, our youngest brother, writhed in endless hunger that no amount of feeding could satisfy. Beauty wrapped around madness—Creator-Father’s greatest achievement and most damning failure.
Did that make him grateful for those of us who came before? Did he recognize our desperate attempts to be worthy?
No.
He despised us more with each passing year. His disappointment grew heavier and his punishments more creative. His whip became an extension of his will, teaching us that love was earned through submission, that protection required domination.
I had sworn I would be different. I would create the family he never could. I would?—
Gods of the Great Hall.I torpedo through the air, my chest tight with horrified understanding. I sound exactly like him. Every thought of breeding Hannah, of keeping her contained for her own good, of using strength to solve problems she could handle with wisdom...
Iammy father’s son in all the ways that matter.
The realization should shatter me. Instead, something else rises in its place—a desperate, aching need to prove that I can be the male Hannah-consort deserves rather than the monster I was made to be.
I bank sharply toward home, no longer fleeing but returning with purpose crystallizing in my chest. Hannah has given me something I never dared hope for: a chance to choose who I become.
But first, I must face what I’ve done. What I’ve allowed to continue in the darkness below our home. If I am to win back her trust—to become worthy of the gift she represents—I must start with the truth she showed me.
