feels strange not to be alone in my head, but not unpleasant, but I will never tell that fucking tree hugger. He’s at least better than that snobby fucking dragon, who thinks he is better than all of us. He reminds me of everything I hate, those bastards who sit on the throne and give orders. I wanted to kill him, had come very close to doing so, sneaking up behind him when he hadn’t noticed, but Nos had stopped me. One simple word on his lips was a reminder.
Dawn.
Would she forgive me? I doubt it, since a mate is more than a choice. As much as I hate it, it’s fate. He is as much hers as I am, doesn’t mean I won’t try to kill the smug fucking bastard. My only consolation is that my wings are better. His look like fucking bat wings, while mine are soft and feathered. She seemed to enjoy them last time, my cock buried inside her as I wrapped them around her while we plummeted.
I groan, shifting as I turn, trying to ignore my now hard cock. I really shouldn’t think of my mate’s pussy when driving. I might crash and then I would scratch up my bike. It took me years to save up enough to buy it and customise it how I wanted.
I wonder if I could get Dawn one once this is all over, then she can ride beside me…no, I want her in front or behind me, wrapped around me, clinging to me as I speed across the world. Not alone anymore.
I pull up to the gates and wait for them to open and let me in. They don’t for at least five minutes as I idle there, and I instantly know what kind of mood the council is in—a testing one. They are wondering what I want. I wasn’t called, so they are showing me their power by making me wait.
Fucking bastards. I push back the darkness and madness, which is whispering for me to kill them all...not yet.
Finally, the gate swings open, admitting me to the sprawling manner. I pull around the fountain and park my bike out front. A little rebellion, but I know it will annoy them, disrupting their splendour and outward show of money and power. Standing back, I lean against my bike, knowing if I head inside they will punish me. Instead, I must wait outside like a dog called home, and often for hours. Once they left me out here for a full day even after ringing me to come back for a briefing. The fuckers. I used the time to debate all the ways I could kill them, and when I got bored I started flying loops around their fountain and doing target practice. It’s safe to say they never made me wait that long again.
They are quick for once, probably due to their curiosity of why I’m here. The door opens, and standing there is the council’s bitch. I stand tall and brush past him without a word, heading inside.
“Stop!” he calls, but I’m done with formalities. They are testing my patience and I can feel myself itching to rain holy fucking madness down on them. They can rip my damn wings off again, see if I give a shit, the smug assholes.
I barge through the marble reception area, ignoring the winding steps that lead upstairs, and instead head right to the waiting room. They won’t see me straightaway, but I’ll be damned if I sit there taking shit from that lackey. I head through the double doors and take a seat on the elaborate chesterfield sofas, purposely putting my dirty boots up on the spotless gold and glass coffee table between them.
I snort at the paintings in the room, all depicting battles the council members have won. There is one in the middle opposite me of the moment they took down the angel operation—the angel who gave life to me. They show him in chains on the floor as they lord over him, with children hiding behind the council like they’re their saviours. Fuckers, they don’t see themselves for what they really are. Us children were taken from one life of servitude to another, at least with the angel we knew what he wanted and he cared for us. We were his holy children, his reason for living, the council? To them we are nothing but disposable blades, something they wish to squash and mould into their own