His allies.
They were all under his umbrella of support, and with that came a level of sensation he never truly comprehended until today.
“Your loyalty is no longer with us,” his father said, his tone robotic. “Where does it lie?”
“With Seraphim Astasiya,” Gabriel replied, not bothering to hide it. “She required my fealty to survive. I therefore pledged it.”
Silence.
The Seraphim weren’t sure how to interpret his response, which he’d anticipated.
“An unknown power is surfacing. She will possess the strength and will to destroy us all unless certain measures are put in place to curb her inclinations,” he quoted out loud. “I provided some of those measures.”
“Who delivered that prophecy?” his father asked, his brow slightly crinkling.
“Prophetess Skye. I believe the ‘us’ applies to the abominations roaming the earth. Therefore, if Astasiya is the one who will finally rid the planet of Osiris’s plague, then she has my loyalty.”
Whispers broke out around him, but he kept his gaze on his father. It would be Adriel who determined Gabriel’s fate because he was his creator and the oldest of his line. While the council might vote, it was Adriel’s words that mattered most.
“Is this the prophetess you speak of?” Tulan, the original Seraphim of Darkness, asked.
He sent one of his rotating images down to Gabriel, the photo one of a dark-haired female with ice-blue eyes being carried by Ezekiel across the beach. The image alone confirmed Gabriel’s property had been under surveillance as early as last week. It was honestly surprising it’d taken them that long to notice the activities at his villa.
“Yes. That’s Prophetess Skye,” he confirmed. With a flick of his wrist, he returned the image to Tulan, who proceeded to pass it around the room in a series of clicks.
Louder murmurs broke out through the room.
Then his father cleared his throat. “Are you aware of who she is?”
“An Ichorian Osiris has held prisoner for a century,” Gabriel replied.
“No. She’s a lost Fate,” Tulan corrected him.
Gabriel’s lips nearly curled down, but he caught them in time to stop the infraction. “She’s not a Seraphim.”
“Not all Seraphim have wings,” his father said, his expression hardening. “Particularly those who are in exile.”
That was news to Gabriel. He’d never met a featherless Seraphim. “Osiris has his wings.”
Tulan clasped his long fingers in his lap, his formal blue robes fluttering around his bare ankles. “Osiris is an original Seraphim. His mist cannot be removed.”
“Yes. Younger Seraphim are susceptible to the castigation,” Adriel confirmed. “Older Seraphim are not. In Skye’s case, she was of an age where removing her ethereal essence suited the crime.”
“Why have I never heard of this?” Gabriel asked. And what crime did she commit to earn such a harsh action? he wondered.
“You haven’t heard of the practice because you’re not privy to council matters,” Tulan replied. “How we punish, and why we punish, are our decisions, not yours.”
“We are losing sight of our topic,” Silvia stated matter-of-factly. The dark-skinned female craved order in all things as the Seraphim of Justice. “He has pledged allegiance to a young Seraphim. The suitable reprimand is outlawing him from society.”
“Except he did it to help her remove Osiris and his abominations,” Adriel interjected. “I believe that’s cause for discussion.”
“He should have brought it to the council before acting cavalierly on his own,” Silvia replied. “That demonstrates a lack of care for our laws and should be handled accordingly.”
“What if he fixes his pledge?” Tulan inquired, his beady eyes thoughtful.
“I can’t,” Gabriel replied, not wanting to waste time. “I will not remove or reevaluate my pledge until her birthright is fulfilled.” His wording was precise and adequate and perfectly planned. They would assume he wanted to help her kill Osiris. And that was exactly what he desired them to think.
“Explain your reasoning,” his father said, playing right into his hand.
