The Unveiling

Chapter Seventeen

The darkness drew me into its death, lulling me to sleep with symphonies of peace, hope and victory. 

The dark made way for mist, and as the mist dissipated, the rocky outcropping overlooking the valley below were Angels in various forms - all naked. 

Most were in the throws of passion - in a period where every single person that they coupled with was human. The human’s were in a haze, feeling glorified that these celestial beings had chosen them - had chosen them above all others, and that in some way made them special. 

The sheer fact that the angels hadn’t committed with an abundance of samples, had made them seem unattainable and in many ways holy and sought-after, leaving the ‘humans’ vying for their attention. 

“We have always believed that we’re superior to the rest, and in some ways that has been true, and in others it has been to our detriment.” Seraphim stood next to me, watching the scene unfold. 

“When was this?” I asked hesitantly. 

“Just before the floods,” he answered. 

“Why are you showing me this?” 

“Because you will need the full picture for when you make your decision,” he spoke smoothly, the words pebbling over me. 

Cold flooded my veins, “And what decision is that?” 

“How you wish to handle the war.” 

“I thought you said that the price of peace was war,” I answered. 

“Then you know that war is inevitable,” he said, unfurling his wings. 

Standing this close to him, I realised that his feathers were actually lined with silver, illuminating his wing span. 

“Why don’t I have wings?” I asked, taking in the dewy softness of his feathers. 

“Because you haven’t learnt how to will it,” he answered smiling. 

I shut my eyes at his infuriating answer. 

He chuckled, the sound creating weaving melodies on the wind. 

“You are too impatient young one,” he spoke kindly. 

And that kindness infuriated me. It grated on every angular bone in my body in a way that only caused pain. 

“If I am impatient it is because I have been dropped in an ocean filled with beings that don’t resemble me in the slightest, yet all want something from me. And you haven’t been the least bit helpful,” I huffed. 

His eyes crinkled in amusement, the lines rippling on his face. 

“Superiority,” he commented, referencing his earlier statement, “You have always known Reya, that you are superior.” 

“And this belief in me being superior is supposed to help me somehow?” I scoffed, “No, if there is war coming a level of superiority won’t solve anything - we have more than enough ‘superior’ beings floating around. I am not superior, I am simply a scared girl with genetics I do not yet understand.” 

“You will lead,” he countered solemnly. “You will lead, because you are Angelic in nature, and by our very nature we have been created to pull lead those that are astray.” 

For all his beauty, he was arrogant. For all his strength, he was infuriating. 

My eyes flashed in anger. 

“But I am not solely Angelic, am I?” I asked angrily. 

He dipped his head smoothly, “A small price to pay,” he answered, as if my shifter blood somehow made me less. 

“Do you know what shifter I am?” I asked quietly. 

He shook his head, “It won’t be of any consequence.” 

And I knew he was wrong. I knew that the power raging for release was more than this celestial power. 

Before I could summon a response, he had simply faded out of sight, slipping away and leaving me to my thoughts. 

‘Reya,’ the wind itself whispered my name, the trees bending towards me, whilst the scene of angels below remained undisturbed. 

‘Re-ya,’ it moaned in excitement. 

I stood still, unsure if I was imagining things. 

I watched on in horror as the ground and boulders below cracked open, the earth a yawning pit of darkness. The humans screamed in terror, realising that these angelic beings were not their saviours, but were rather abandoning them to their fate. 

Black and grey clouds rolled in overhead, faster than I would have ever thought possible. 

Lightning flashed over head, and I felt my own lightning in my veins dance in response, begging to be released, I reigned her in hushing her and watched. 

The rain did not start gently, pattering its way into a steady strength. No, it fell down in full force, as hard as hail.

The Angels' wings were weighed down by the weight of the water, and I watched on as one by one, they struggled to take flight. Some clung to each other - the humans long forgotten - accepting their fate, whilst others still fought in their naked glory. 

The pool of water grew and grew until it was no longer a lake, but a pool. 

And still it rained. 

The rain pelted their divine faces with such force that it left open gashes on their faces, dribbling blood. 

The lake turned into a river. Time didn’t seem to factor in what I was witnessing. Did it take days? Weeks? A few minutes? I wasn’t sure. I was only certain that one moment the sun was out in full force and the next I was witnessing a destruction so complete that it devastated me to my core. 

The river became an ocean, and still I watched as their wings became weights, pulling them under water. 

Of course they fought. They kicked and screamed and fought. In the end, it didn’t matter - each one of them sank, their bones to be found by later generations declaring them as ‘proof’ of giants. 

A warning then. Seraphim had shown me this as a warning. 

As the sunshine peeked through the flooded plains, celestial singing could be heard within the wind itself. I had to turn around and double check that a choir itself hadn’t suddenly presented itself. 

And, weaved between those harmonious notes, climbing and falling like crests of a wave, a single order could be heard. 

‘Lead’ 

I strained, listening - perhaps I had misheard? 

‘Lead’ 

Lead what? Lead whom? 

And the highest note sang out, leaving shivers of pure awe rolling through me. 

‘Lead’ 

Lead them where? 

‘Lead’ it said, the wind wrapping itself around me, making me dizzy with its contact. 

Am I even the right person to lead? 

‘Lead’, the wind became tighter and tighter as it danced around me. 

When? When must I lead them? 

‘Lead,’ that celestial voice spoke more forcefully. 

Why must I be the one to lead? 

The wind tightened further, constricting me in a way that halted all air - and with it, all thoughts, questions and doubts. 

‘LEAD,’ it roared at me. 

I collapsed into darkness, unsure if I too would fall into those murky waters from the flood below, if I too was a weight for the world to be rid of. 

I woke up with a start, the blankets long thrown off of me, my hair clinging to my forehead in desperation. 

The rapid rise and fall of my chest spoke of panic, reminding me of my need to flee. 

Would the Angels hurt me in their messages? 

I sat uneasily in bed, working through the vision I had been shown, and the message I had been sent. 

I wasn’t sure. I honestly didn’t know if they would hurt me. 

Unintended harm? Quite possibly.

Intended harm? I didn’t know. Was I a fool for assuming that because I came from them there would be some sort of camaraderie? That they may not want to protect and train me outright, but that they certainly wouldn’t actively choose to bring harm upon me. 

I stood up on shaky legs, and clutched my hands to myself with even shakier fingers. As I walked I wasn’t even sure if my legs would carry me, it was as if I were a newborn foal learning how to walk. 

I felt hot and sweaty and nauseous. In fact I wanted to vomit, or splash water on my face, or simply breathe air from a different - cooler - room. I was moving towards the bathroom before I had even registered where I was going. 

If I had taken more time to collect myself, to simply steady my breathing perhaps I would have noticed that the door that normally stood open was closed. And perhaps if I wasn’t so consumed by that one word - LEAD - I would have heard the steady stream of water running from behind that closed door, but I was so convinced that the sound of the water falling was from my own memory of that dream where the skies opened up and rained down a justice so deep, it frightened me. 

My hand gripped the door handle and I stumbled into the bathroom with my thoughts pounding through my head, fogging up my mind. 

It took me a full second to realise that Chase was in the shower, naked. 

The shower doors had a terrible patterned design that was supposed to obscure the person within from view, but in actual fact it did nothing. 

Even with the steam, the sheer size of his silhouette took up the entire shower. 

I swallowed, turning away, “s**t, sorry - I didn’t know you were in here,” the words rushed from my lips. 

“Reya?” he spoke, sticking his head out the shower. 

He frowned, taking in my dishevelled state, and without saying another word simply stepped out the shower and walked towards me - naked. 

I shut my eyes, “I’m fine. I’m sorry, I’m going to head back to my room,” I said.

His hand touched my shoulder, my eyes sprang open of their own accord, and I tried incredibly hard to keep looking at his face and no further. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice gruff. 

His eyes glanced down, and I watched as his jaw ticked in defiance, giving away the emotions that he was trying so hard to conceal. 

Despite all my lectures on self-restraint and boundaries, I found myself glancing down in return and saw that my tank top had been pulled down, exposing the top of my breasts, the black lace from my bra peeking out. 

I watched as a droplet of water rolled down his shoulder, onto his broad hardened chest covered in swirling tattoos, trickling towards his well defined abs. I averted my eyes before I went too far below his vee, and found him watching me. 

I licked my lips, a low gutteral sound escaping my lips and turned away. 

“Are you okay?” his voice sounded strained - even to my ear. 

I looked back at him, noting the rise and fall of his increased breaths. He was as equally affected as I was, and nothing about that was ‘okay’. 

Without a word, I left him there and slipped back into my room, scurrying beneath the sheets, my thoughts no longer filled with orders of leading the angelic realm, but of a dark haired Fae Prince with quick-silver eyes and a sharp smile. 

It was a long time before I fell asleep, my dreams were filled with two bodies pressed against one another, consumed by their intoxication with each other. The flash of dark swirling tattoos stark against the white sheets. 

And when I woke I realised that his tattoos weren’t wholly black at all, they were varying shades of darkness, all leading into black -  hidden by the swirling, moving motion of the circular shapes themselves.