Forbidden Angel

by Chantal Cross

  I’ve seen the way the poor girl struggles with herself, sometimes her volatile emotions drive her magic in the vilest of ways. I understand that she can’t help it, such is her wild nature. However, that doesn’t mean that I can suddenly turn my back on all that I know and give into childish notions of love.

  My love isn’t interested in having her body — what a trivial thing to want from another. I want to set her free from the danger of evil, for her to be rid of Rhiannon once and for all. I alone, among the huntsmen, wish to honor the oath I gave before her dying breath. Sadly, that world can’t ever exist while Ebony lives. The huntsmen know this, they took an oath to ensure we’d always be on hand to stem the changing tides. And yet, when evil is breaking down the door, they ignore it.

  They give into infatuation. No care for the impact it has on anyone else but themselves.

  Disgusted, I turn my back away from the scene unfolding in the boys’ dormitory. They’re no better than animals. In fact, even wild beasts have more dignity than they do. Right now, they're nothing more than worms writhing in the dirt.

  Giving a flick of my wrist, the portal closes, and their screeches become nothing more than memories inside my head.

  As I listen to the din they make, I pick up on a constant theme. The most defining feature of their argument is their obsession with ownership: who will get her first.

  They dance around the issue, but I know it’s pleasures of the flesh. Given how lustful Lucien is typically, it surprises me that he is obsessed by sleeping with Ebony too.

  They claim it's the fault of the Lustful Kiss, but that is just a smokescreen. Truthfully, what they really want is sex. They want to be primal, dirty, and untamed. They want to take Ebony, mark her as theirs, and they want to do it with their bodies to make sure the message is heard.

  Even Seth, one of the few who remembers True Love’s Kiss, is as lecherous with his passion as the rest. His biggest failing is that he doesn’t see how easily he’s being manipulated.

  Back when we all worked together under a common banner, I had similar urges. I wanted to touch her, taste her on my tongue, the yearning deep inside was like nothing I’d ever felt. I’ve not experienced it since an admission that rises its own new question.

  Would I if I was around Ebony now?

  The fact that I can’t answer this causes me to pause, my eyes flickering back to look at where the portal’s vision once was. As I stare at the blankness but remember them fighting, I ask myself whether I’m the one at fault for not feeling drawn to Ebony…?

  Out of the original seven, only I continue to keep my promise; no matter the blood, sweat, and tears, I make sure to enact on my oath using my wrath. It’s what makes me such a formidable opponent.

  Have I saved myself from heartache by being away from her all this time, sealed away and left forgotten? My anger was too great then, and it’s not dulled since. Nonetheless, if I’d been allowed to live among them, to follow the lifestyles that they led, I wonder if I’d be a shadow of the man I used to be.

  Gripped by a sudden curiosity I almost don’t recognize, I will the portal to open once more, only this time it’s Ebony’s sweet face I seek. She’s oblivious to the chaos she’s causing, her mind trailing elsewhere while she keeps to herself inside her room.

  Her distrust is making her lonely. I can tell.

  I shouldn’t feel anything, yet I find myself longing to take that pain away from her. I also notice how I stare too longingly at her features, remembering how she used to wear her hair in the past. How one night under the stars, she rejoiced with us all after winning a fierce battle, her hair decorated with a mix of wildflowers. It was one of the few occasions she allowed herself the femininity she wears so brazenly now.

  She’s as beautiful now as she was then. It’s a different beauty, but no less alluring.

  My eyes widening, I seethe with confusion. The portal implodes, bursting into a short bang of colors as it vanishes from sight.

  Thinking of the past won’t change my duty. It can’t.

  If I allow myself to get tangled up in her web, however innocently she weaves it, I’ll have failed the one person I’ve ever loved. Snow knew what was needed to keep the world safe, to keep her soul safe, and I’ve respectfully adhered to her rules. I still intend to.

  I won’t be distracted.

  Furious at myself for being tempted, I light up the room in a torrent of crimson colors. The way they illuminate the space drenches it, and myself, in the deepest shade of red.

  I demand blood for their treachery. I demand their lives; as worthless as they’ve become, they still have value. I’ll give them one final chance to prove themselves worthy of being saved, but if the huntsmen fail my test, they’ll suffer in the most unspeakable ways. Ebony will have mercy. They won’t.

  Once she’s put to rest and Snow’s memory is saved, I’ll then turn my attention to the Order. Those fools have done nothing to watch over the situation as they promised. They’ve been content in sitting back and letting the madness unfold. Only now they feel the need to make their presence known, and still they keep a lax approach. They’d sooner observe than take up arms, a thought process that doesn’t fit the urgency we’re dealing with.

  Flexing my fingers, I feel the desire to break something.

  Someone.

  16

  Ebony

  I truly don’t know what to think about the world anymore. I’ve never been one for melancholy, but ever since learning about who I am, life has taken a turn for the worst. No one is who they seem. And everyone demands more of me with each passing day.

  As the sunlight hits the mirror, I squint against it.

  I’m grateful for the shock, glad to be focusing on a physical object rather than my noisy thoughts. Then I see it.

  The mirror is moving. Its surface is flowing like water, ripples spreading outward to its edges. Within its translucent waters, an image moves with along with each wave.

  I see myself. Running. I’m terrified, my eyes wide enough to swallow up my entire face — I’m the embodiment of fear. To match my petrified expression, my body is beaten and broken, one of my legs dragging behind me as I run. I can tell it’s hindering my escape, but what am I even escaping from?

  Titling my head to the side then back again, I finally see the throng of men chasing me. I say men, but they’re feral, all jagged teeth and frenzied eyes. They’re baying for my blood, their hands already soaked with it. Yet still, they come.

  Beneath the grins and joyous faces, I spot the distorted features of Lucien, Seth, Gabriel, Kashton, and Leo. They’re reveling in hurting me, their happiness so mismatched with what they’re doing that I’m taken aback, lost for words.

  Hypnotized, I watch as they all pull me down into the dirt, my arms flailing as I cry out for someone to save me. Even without any sound, I can hear myself begging for mercy, for them to take pity on me — didn’t they love me? They used to, what changed?

  They don’t care, though.

  All they want is to feast on me, and unlike in the world I know today, these men want to feast on my torn flesh. Engulfing my frail body, they rip me apart piece by piece, my own broken expression, and scared eyes staring back at me. I want to reach out and save her, save me, but I know that I can’t. Whatever my fate is, it’s to be decided within a mirrored world which I can’t enter.

  Unable to watch as my life is brutally taken from me, I squeeze my eyes shut and pray that the vision leaves. Whatever it is, why ever it haunts me, it needs to be gone.

  Please, please, please, please, please…

  Just as I’m about to open my lids, I feel a finger tapping my shoulder.

  Screaming, I jump from my seat, whipping around as quickly as my body will allow. Hands raised to protect myself, I’m ready to fight off whoever I need to. When I look to see who’s come to kill me, my eyes greet Ivora’s laughing face.

  The grin she’s wearing spans from ear to ear, a true testament of the glee she’s obviously fee
ling. How she was able to sneak up on me undetected? And, even more curious, why she’s so pleased with herself?

  My heart still threatening to burst from my chest, I fix her with a silent glare. She pouts back at me through intermittent giggling.

  “You should see your face right now!” Ivora giggles, her pout unable to hold its taut lines for long. Exasperated, I struggle not to lose my temper.

  “You scared me half to death, Ivora,” I sigh. To my amazement, she takes this in her stride.

  “No kidding. Man oh man, you look like death.”

  I know I shouldn’t take her amusement to heart — Ivora is a playful thing, prone to enjoying the whimsy of innocent mischief. Maybe it’s a fairy trait, maybe it’s just her own personality. Whatever the case, I know it’s nothing to be concerned about.

  So why does it bother me so much?

  Even though I can reason away her sudden appearance, the way she’s relishing my plight is a little too unnatural for my liking. You're paranoid, Ebony, I tell myself. But then a tiny voice chimes in and throws my assurances into turmoil. Are you really being paranoid?

  “As much as I want to let you get your breath back — maybe even slow that pounding heart of yours — I have some news to share,” Ivora blurts out, her body jiggling from one foot to the other. Seeing her so thrilled makes me feel like a monster for wanting to kill her joy.

  “What news is this?” I eventually let up, much to her delight.

  “Oh, you’ll love this.” When I hear her say that, I immediately know that I won’t; there’s something in her voice. Still, I smile and act dumb. I’m trying to be supportive of my friend’s happiness, however strange it may seem to me. “So, the word around school is that a fight broke out in the boys’ dormitory and—”

  My face drops. I know what she’s going to say, I know who it concerns.

  “— Seth, Lucien, Gabriel, and Kashton were all involved,” Ivora then gives a mock frown as she pretends to think on this. “Come to think of it, I think they were the only ones involved. Weird, huh?” The way she asks me is innocent enough, yet again I get the feeling she’s prodding me for a reaction.

  I hurry to place the smile back on my face, but I can tell Ivora saw the quick change in me. Her eyes give it away.

  Unperturbed, however, she twirls around my room. She’s chattering away about how boys will be boys, and how they’re likely fighting over which girl they like. That’s on the nose. But, Ivora isn’t content to leave her assumptions there.

  “Or maybe it’s about someone kissing someone else — oooooh, who do you think that is?”

  There’s no way she’s guessing anymore.

  Someone has told her about Gabriel and me nearly kissing, there’s no other explanation. How else would she know to mention all of these little details? I haven’t told her, and I doubt that Gabriel has. Even more so if he’s been busy picking fights with the boys. Or, more accurately, I suspect they’ve picked a fight with Gabriel.

  Annoying as she’s being, Ivora is a problem easily fixed. As for Gabriel and his friends, I’m less knowledgeable about what to do. I don’t know how to put out this fire without getting burned.

  I know I’m not totally to blame, and that I’m free to do what I like. However, I also knew what I was doing when I stood and waited for Gabriel to kiss me. If I’d wanted to reject him, I had the prime opportunity to do so. Yet I waited for his lips to meet mine. And not only did I wait, but I willed him to kiss me. I wanted to feel what it was like.

  Why have I been so stupid?

  Liking any one of them is bad enough, but liking all of them for different reasons will only end in insanity. They’ll never accept the scope of my love, nor how it beats for them as a whole and as individually. They each want me to love them and only them, but my heart is too full to focus its attention all on one soul.

  They mean a great deal to me in their own, unique ways.

  “You’re not saying much. Oh, wait, it’s you isn’t it? You’re the one who someone kissed?” Ivora teases, her irises twinkling with devilment.

  I thought our problems were in the past. I’d moved on from distrusting her. Yet now Ivora’s behaving like this, I suddenly want to end our friendship where we both stand.

  “It’s not that simple—”

  “Oooooh, Ebony, you naughty girl. You know those boys can’t keep it together when you’re around, it’s almost cruel to tempt them.” She sounds just like Cordelia, only less venomous and more light and airy. Somehow though, her tittering seems all the more offensive.

  Once again, I tell myself to ease up, that this is what all teenage girls do when their lives aren’t consumed with death and evil magic. While I see the logic of that, I also can’t deny my anger. I'm mad at her, mad at her behavior, mad at how she snuck up on me when I was unguarded.

  Something is amiss here.

  “So who did you kiss?” Ivora quickly asks. I dislike how stubbornly she’s hanging on to this; she’s a dog with a bone, unwilling to leave it and wait.

  “Gabriel,” I absentmindedly reply, my mouth moving before I think. Ivora’s grin grows wider.

  “You should be careful, Ebony, one of these days those boys will all turn on you and eat you alive.”

  My mouth drops open, I stare in disbelief. How did she know about my vision?

  17

  Ebony

  Gabriel, Lucien, Kashton, and Seth all sit in different areas of the dining hall, but I feel their eyes on me the moment I walk in. I don’t look at any of them as I make my way to the serving area. Trolls and hags serve steaming piles of delicious food to the students. Usually, it’s enough to make my mouth water, but I find that I have no appetite.

  I leave the dining hall without taking anything. All I want is to be alone, and that’s unusual for me. What’s unusual is that I feel no desire to train or speak with Leo.

  I have to pass Lucien as I leave the dining hall. I can’t help but look at him. He gives me a curious look. I can tell he’s concerned about me, but when I look at him, all I can see is his mangled face from my vision. His teeth sinking into my flesh. Licking my blood from his lips.

  I look away and hurry out of the dining hall. A hollow pit makes a nest in my stomach.

  When I reach my room, I don’t turn on the lights. The sun has only just set. Traces of gold still illuminate my room. I’ll be glad when the light fades completely.

  Ivora’s words echo in my mind.

  I try to tell myself that it was just an expression. There’s no way she knew about my vision. It’s simply an unfortunate coincidence. I’m being oversensitive. Still, I can’t shake the fear that grips me.

  Leo taught me a handful of exercises to keep my magic under control when it flares up. For once, my magic feels fine. It’s everything else that seems to be spiraling out of control. My heart feels like it’s been beating too fast for years. I won’t be surprised if I learn that my ribs bear bruises.

  I’m not hungry, but my stomach doesn’t feel full. The idea of food is repulsive.

  Even my breathing isn’t right. My breath hitches in my chest. My lungs ache when I take in too much air. Short, shallow breaths make me feel dizzy and sick.

  I force myself to walk to my bed. I sit down, facing the window. The dark mountain looms in the distance. I don’t know why I’ve been noticing it so much lately. When I look at it, all I can think of is how cool and dark it must be in its shadow.

  My skin feels clammy, and my clothes feel too heavy and too tight. Even though the room is enchanted to always be the perfect temperature, I feel sweaty.

  I strip out of my clothes and recline on my bed in just my undergarments. I’m tempted to open the window, but that would be inviting trouble. What’s to stop Wrath from scaling the wall and creeping in? He could slay me in my bed before I open one eye.

  I know nothing of Wrath. Yet, somehow, I know that if he were to kill me, he would make it quick. Perhaps it’s nothing more than a ghost memory from another life, but I beli
eve he’d rather face defeat than take a life dishonorably.

  Leo would think me foolish for entertaining such a notion.

  I briefly contemplate going to his office. I want to talk to someone about my vision. The memory of Leo’s contorted face makes me feel cold.

  I decide to stay in my room tonight. I lock the door for good measure, not that it would stop anyone if they really wanted to get in. It certainly wouldn’t stop a Huntsman. I feel better all the same.

  I sit on my bed, legs crossed, and go through the breathing exercises Leo taught me. They aren’t as effective on my body as they are on my magic, but it’s better than nothing.

  The last dregs of light are gone from the sky, and the moon is high by the time I feel tired enough to sleep. I couldn’t make myself do any of the coursework I’ve been neglecting. I felt no desire to pick up a book to read, even for fun.

  My pillows don’t feel comfortable as I lay my head down. They feel lumpy and uneven. No matter how I position my limbs and torso, I feel wrong. It’s as if someone switched out my bones when I was sleeping and now, I don’t know what to do with my body.

  I toss and turn until I could scream.

  Each day is more draining than the last. I need to sleep now more than ever.

  Another hour passes before my frustration reaches its boiling point. With a wave of my hand, I ignite the candles in my room. I throw my blanket aside and storm to my desk where my borrowed books are stacked.

  I tear through them, not caring where they land or if their pages get bent. The book I desire is at the bottom of the stack. I angrily flip through the pages, tearing a few in the process, until I find the page I want. A sleeping spell.