Prologue
Angels live amongst the humans.
Castles in clouds were for fairytales.
Angels did their bidding on earth.
Simple facts taught to children as soon as they were old enough to understand language.
It wasn’t done to mystify them and give them great hope. It was done to keep them in line, to teach them of the dark and dangerous beings who lived mere steps from them at any given time.
Angels did not live in the clouds or fairy tales. They lived in castles as kings and queens. They ruled over humans, demons, fae, and the like with iron fists. Angels cared little for those they deemed inferior, and humans often found themselves at the deadly end of a seraph blade – their life cut short. Angels cared for power, and their search for power often brought them to the brink of war.
If one dared to look upon an angel, the price was death.
Or love.
If one dared to fight an angel, the price was death.
Or a lifetime of servitude.
Magic danced in the hands of angels. None knew the origin, and none cared. It was theirs to summon and benefit from. Weather surrendered to their whim. Animals did their bidding. Still, they hid in their palaces, using few appearances to woo the mortals to do their bidding and accept their rule. Something easily done when a creature could murder another from across a room with merely a blink of their eyes.
Only one thing tied them close to humans.
Mortality.
An angel could be killed with the very blades they wielded. Death was a driving force to earn power. Family unit against family unit sought the greatest rule of all – Earth.
What would they do to get it? Well, that’s where the story truly begins.
Chapter One
Wincing, Maira ignored the sharp snag of the branch in the upper feathers of her wing. The slight trickle of blood did not stop her flight. Her wings could not get her far enough away from Palace Yeld and the horrifying angel her parents sought an alliance with.
Maira could see the condescending smirk in Niall’s violet gaze as he suggested she be his plaything in the dungeons when marital life grew dull. The mere thought of his sickeningly cold fingers touching her in any manner drove Maira from the palace.
Niall Yeld ruled his people through trauma. His lands were awash with blood, and not even birds chirped as Maira rushed through the skies to leave the palace behind. The barren land alternated from brown-tinged dirt to grass smothered in blood from Niall’s hunts. He believed humans were useless, and hunting parties of angels and demons alike filled his kingdom – something she disdained.
I’ll figure something else out. A blast of frigid wind tore through the injury to her wing. Hell. Biting her lip, Maira did her best not to look around. Any delay would allow Niall to catch her, and even though she’d chosen the form of a gleaming snow-white swan, he would sense her true form under the magic if he got close enough.
Maira’s family was one of different circumstances. Though they did not believe humans their equals, they saw no need for senseless murder should a human stumble upon them. She’d spent many nights in bed, tantalized by men and women alike, enjoying kisses and gentle touches where ever they came from. A habit her parents despised but did not seek to overrule Maira.
Until the blasted command. The words were viable in her head, but little more than honks from a swan on the air.
Her parents were pacifists. They chose to rule over nothing more than the land her family earned in the Great Culling – the moment when angels realized their superiority over humans and took the land from human kings and queens.
Six days ago, the neighboring territory came uninvited. Though they arrived without blades drawn, there was nothing peaceful about the Dallen’s family visit. They wanted the land. Her family’s peaceful ways were known, and they’d been given a month to turn over rule.
Which Maira thought was the only option.
The night before last, Jeremiah and Klina Pire stood before their daughter and told her she would wed. Her marriage would give them the power of ten kingdoms, and her husband agreed to marry her without delay.
Maira gave a sound that passed for a snort even from a swan’s beak. Niall was brutal and cruel. In the day she’d spent in his company, she gathered more information than she needed to flee his land. Her family would have to turn over their kingdom and hope the Dallen’s respected them enough not to behead them.
“Yes, when death is better than life with a man, you’ve made the only acceptable choice.”
Forcing her wings down, Maira ignored the strain on her wings. She rarely took the sky in any form beyond her own, and this venture proved she needed to work on her arm strength when she returned home. Pain lanced through her shifted body with every downward thrust. Weariness gripped her like a vice, churning and squishing her muscles as if they’d someone offended the air current.
Agony ripped through her right wing, tearing a squawk past her beak that echoed amongst the trees she flew between. Her cry of pain startled the birds who sat in secret, their chirps exploding like a war cry as her body lost balance and crashed against a tree. The impact jarred Maira, shattering her focus.
Maira lost control of the magic holding her form. Feathers began to dissipate into pale pink skin as she cracked her head – her angel head – against a tree, the forest shook, tipped on its side, and the ground rushed up at her.
Pain, unlike any Maira had ever known rocketed through her, shoulders first, as she slammed against the hard ground. Pinpricks danced across her skin, and blades of grass and twigs jabbed her. Vision blurred in and out of focus as she snapped her eyes open and then closed, trying to make sense of the now upside down world.
“My lady!” A man’s deep voice called from somewhere to the south of her as the sound of rushing feet grew quickly closer. “Are you hurt?”
Dried grass and leaves crunched, and the ground shook as whomever called to her darted near.
Maira sucked in a breath, grateful her lungs still took in air. Her chest cried out at the action, but Maira did not grow dizzy from being unable to breathe, and that was all she cared for.
“Shit,” the man’s voice rang out seconds before his tan boots appeared before her face. “You were in the trees.”
It was not a question.
“The arrow,” warm hands closed over the top of Maira’s left arm. The gentlest touch sent a jolt through her as pain accompanied the motion. “I’m sorry. Fuck, what were you doing in a tree?”
She knew the man could not understand what she was – to see an angel was to die or fall in love with one. Maira wished for neither to occur. On the contrary, she wanted to get far from her current location and return home before war broke out over her rude departure.
Maira closed her eyes, letting the suffering wash over her. In an instant, it was gone as focus returned Maria’s magic. Healing was instant, and something an angel could only do on their body, and she wouldn’t have traded it for the world.
The stabbing spikes of discomfort in her arm vanished, though the arrow remained. It would bleed when the man removed it, and she would need to convince him of something other than angelic blood as the cause for lack of pain if she could not act appropriately. If she meant no harm, no harm would befall him.
“Please, remain still.” His voice was low as if he tried to comfort her.