Perhaps, then, the prophecy wasn’t about the Hydraians and Ichorians but about them all. Seraphim included.
Yet how was that possible? Seraphim couldn’t perish. Unless Stas would one day determine the true origin of life. Specifically, Seraphim life.
He played Skye’s words over in his head once more, his gut tightening with the realization of just how dangerous his sister could grow to be.
“Are there any additional questions?” Adriel asked, his inquiry for the council, not for Gabriel.
“Would you be willing to submit yourself to rehabilitation?” The higher-pitched feminine voice came from behind him.
Dara, he recognized. Seraphim of Fertility and Genetics.
She was Leela’s mother.
Rather than turn to look at the female, he said, “Not at this time.”
“What about after you’ve completed your mission assisting Seraphim Astasiya?” his father pressed.
Gabriel considered his response before saying, “If it is a necessary measure at that time, I would take the recommendation under advisement and follow protocol if I felt there was an adequate flaw in my soul’s programming.”
He chose the words carefully because he would only agree to such an action if he truly believed it was necessary.
Which would likely never happen.
But as his kind focused primarily on logic, not emotional well-being, they would take his statement as truth and agree with the rational reply.
“Would you agree to realign your fealty with your elders?” Tulan inquired. “After the prophecy is fulfilled, I mean.”
If they required a blood vow from him, he would reject it. So instead, he said, “I would discuss the appropriate alignment of my fealty at that time, yes.”
He suspected it would stay with his sister. But that all depended on the future events—events the council was hiding and trying to manipulate.
Was that why they punished Skye? Because she refused to assimilate to their protocols? Did Ezekiel know of her true heritage?
The questions pelted his thoughts while the Seraphim around him fell completely silent, their inquiries seeming complete.
That was how these trials always went—quick and efficient. They’d gathered the majority of their evidence before calling him here. This part of the discussion had merely been about what truths he was willing to reveal.
His father glanced around once, then nodded with finality. “As there are no other clarifications, the council will convene on a proper course. You are temporarily dismissed, Gabriel. We will call you back when we have our final edict.”
“Thank you, Adriel,” Gabriel replied, using his father’s given name as a sign of respect to the family line. He bowed deeply, then took his leave, aware that this might be the last afternoon he was permitted to roam inside the Seraphim city walls.
He glanced around.
Then shrugged.
He’d rather spend the time packing up his minimal belongings because it seemed Hydria was about to inherit a new seraphic resident.
His wings flickered to life around him just as an alarm flared about a hundred yards to his right. Seraphim took to the sky in a flurry, their defensive training igniting in an effort to protect the council.
Only, the threat wasn’t outside the gates.
But inside.
In the form of a naked, blue-winged Seraphim with furious blue eyes.
Gabriel relaxed his plumes and arched a brow. “Mother,” he greeted. “Would you like to borrow my shirt?”
“Take me to Sethios.” Her voice was a rasp of sound, confirming she’d only recently awoken. And given her bloody state, he suspected it wasn’t with the council’s permission.
