Wherein, Cassiel assumed, trusted guards must have been placed outside their door. How safe could they be in a castle full of Celestials that would rather see them dead?
“Zev’s ability to shapeshift at will is astonishing,” his father commented.
The were-beast was peculiar. Once Cassiel got a good look at him, he had tried not to stare at the many scars that snaked over every inch of him in haphazard lines. Bracelets of scarred flesh circled his wrists, and the skin pulled around them, appearing as though he’d been cleaved in pieces and stitched back together.
“Half-breed werewolves are called Lycans. Once they mature, they develop two forms: the wolf and the Other. They are rare, for the mothers often will not rear them.”
Other?
Cassiel sighed. He didn’t want to think about the beast or anything else for that matter. He wanted to be alone.
“And Dynalya, she has a brilliant soul. You saw it for yourself, did you not?”
Of course, he did. But what was the purpose of having the ability to see and feel the souls of humans?
The first time Dyna touched his cheek was brief, but when she held his injured hand, he had seen everything. Her soul was a luminous, blazing green with the light of a thousand thunderstorms. The entirety of it was beautiful. The sense of it almost familiar, as though returning to a place he once knew. It was her soul that convinced him he made the right choice to save her, but it carried tremendous grief that left a burden on him. After hearing about her past tonight, he learned why.
The High King tilted his head, a wistful expression on his face. “Soul Searching can be overwhelming. To see and touch something so phenomenal leaves one almost at a loss for words.”
Yes, Cassiel would put it that way. At that moment he had willingly surrendered himself to Dyna’s soul, basking in the glorious sensation.
“You don’t have experience with this, and I imagine your first time was unsettling. Seeing a soul comes immediately upon any physical contact with humans, but it is easy to control. Simply decide not to see.”
That was a rather vague explanation.
His father broke out into a playful grin. “I have almost forgotten the feeling of Soul Searching. It’s been quite some time since a lovely human has passed through my forest.”
Irritation ignited Cassiel’s nerves. “How can you jest of such things?”
The High King’s smile fell. “Forgive me, I did not intend to slight your mother’s memory.” He nodded to the flute. “Is that hers?”
Why ask questions he knows the answers to?
“Elia was never more beautiful than when she played it.”
The sound of his mother’s name slammed into Cassiel like a chilling ocean wave.
“I was there the day she crossed into our territory playing her flute,” his father said, his voice as far away as his dreamlike state. “Her melody filled the forest with something akin to magic. I had to find the source, and when I laid eyes on her, all rationality left me. I granted her immunity and escorted her home to North Star.”
Cassiel straightened. North Star was Dyna’s village.
“She was a novelty, your mother. Her features. Her voice. The fragility of her life. All of it allured me. I shouldn’t have had anything to do with a human, but I was inexplicably drawn to her. I often flew to her village, and she was always waiting, as though she sensed I would come. She knew from the beginning that I was hers, and she was mine.”
This was the most Cassiel’s father had spoken to him in years about anything, and he chose this moment to speak abouther.
“You should have let her be,” Cassiel seethed. “You stole her life when you had the audacity to think you loved her.”
His father stuttered, taken aback by his outburst. “I did—”
“If you did, you would never have brought her here as your consort when you already had a queen!” His shout echoed over the summit, and the words kept rushing out of his throat. “You assumed Hilos would accept a human because their High King willed it so. You assumed she could ever have such a thing as happiness here. Her life had been insufferable and it drove her mad. Your meeting spelled her end!”
Cassiel turned away as the last of his words faded into the night, bracing himself for the repercussions of his disrespect.
His mother’s suffering was the deepest resentment he held against his father. But it was pointless to reveal it now.
“Perhaps I should have let her die,” his father said, surprisingly tranquil. “But I could not turn my back on her, as you could not turn your back on Dynalya. Why did you save her?”
“I haven’t the answer,” Cassiel mumbled the lie.
