I have a whole lot of energy to burn, what do you say, my bull?”
“On your knees,” he snaps, and I see a hint of Dume peeking through now as they both comprehend I’m more than fine. I’m fucking thriving despite being kept prisoner.
After all, you can never keep a bad girl down.
I follow the lackey like the good little dog they called me, and I wonder for a moment where he will lead me. The dungeons? The tower? The sitting room? But no, I should have guessed, everything with these people is a game, a way to lord power and use others’ weaknesses. I know this path, I was dragged this way many times before and thrown before them in their throne room…where she died.
Each step closer has the madness spinning faster and faster, searching for a way out, imagining Dawn in there waiting for me like my mother was, seeing her die. Fisting my hands, I try to slow my breathing before it bursts from me and I do something stupid like slay them. I have to be smart, I have to be in control for once. For her I have to accept their form of torture and I have to be stronger than I have ever been before.
“Oh, my little Griffin, don’t you listen to them. Your emotions, your love for me does not make you or your father weak, it makes you impossibly stronger. You’re stronger than they or even you know, because they only fight since they are ordered to, but you, my boy? You fight because you have to, because you have people expecting you, needing you. Fighting for love, not respect, will always win. You will always triumph, Griffin. They think it a weakness, show them it is the exact opposite. Use it, let it fuel you.” She smiles softly at me, her human eyes filled with love even as tears trail from my angel eyes, like my father’s. She rubs the wet cloth across my face, dabbing away the blood from the fight.
We are not permitted to fight outside of training, but I was cornered in the bathroom by five other kids, kids like me. They attacked me, ganged up on me. I fought as hard as I could, wanting to prove to my father and to them I was strong enough, but they just laughed. They called me weak, told me my human whore of a mother made me worthless. It infuriated me, I saw red, and when I came to, they were all crawling away with disgusted sneers on their faces. I watched them go, my muscles shaking, and only when I was alone did I break down. That’s where she found me, and like always she picked me up, dusted me off, and loved me.
How can they think she’s nothing? How can they think this, her loving me and me loving her, is nothing more than normal? I find myself asking her that, and she sighs softly, her nose crinkling like it always does when she is thinking, her brow furrowing and her blue eyes sad.
“It is jealousy, my love,” she whispers, gripping my shoulders with all her strength, which is admittedly not much. Her human body is frail, but her spirit is stronger than any person I have ever met, angel or otherwise. “Their mothers, well, they aren’t like me. They don’t understand why you get to have me, why you get to be loved and they aren’t. They see you with me and your father and they envy it. You have to understand that. Because to understand someone’s motives and emotions is to understand them, and then and only then will you know what the right thing to do is. Trust your heart, Griff, you have the biggest one I have ever seen. It will never lead you wrong.”
“Fallen,” the lackey snaps, and I realise I’ve stopped just before the grand double doors. The grandiose entrance is another game for them, used to intimidate and show their wealth and power, but I’m starting to learn some of the strongest of our kind do not need tricks to amass fear and love—it’s simply just them.
Gritting my teeth, I step up next to him and he leans closer. “Worthless dog,” he spits, and then pushes the door open, striding inside with his head held high like he owns the place, even though he’s nothing more than a servant. When they are bored with him, they will toss him away