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Sariel and I froze for different reasons. Me because he’d mentioned my mother, and Sariel because—
“It was you,” he said quietly. The ring of gold around his iris expanded so rapidly, it looked like his eyes had flashed. “You’re the wolf that killed Auren.”
“You angels have a shit sense of smell,” Tyler laughed out. “Took you long enough.”
A sound I’d never heard escape Sariel before came from him, and suddenly, he was being pinned down by four wolves and fighting valiantly to get to Tyler. Azazel remained blessedly silent as Sariel raged.
“You’re working with the man who killed your son?!”
My heart sank.
“Do you know what they did to him?!” Sariel cried. “They forced his shift and plucked out his fucking feathers!”
Rage echoed down the bond, raw and unfiltered. I staggered under the weight of it.
Sariel was vibrating in the wolves’ hold. His eyes flashed from gold to white. He was losing control of his angel, and whatever they’d shot him up with was making it worse.
“They beat him so bad he couldn’t beg any more; he couldn’t cry!” Sariel’s voice broke. “While I was tied to a chair and forced to watch! The look in his eyes when they dragged me from the room while he lay bleeding out will haunt me forever! You fucking monster!”
Tears were streaming down my face.
“You’re being dramatic,” Tyler said. “It was a bit of a mix-up. We thoughtyouwere the younger son.”
My breath left me in a painful whoosh as devastation like I’d never experienced before flowed down the bond.
“What?” Sariel breathed.
“Auren should have been you,” Azazel answered, eyes glimmering as he addressed his son. “You didn’tactuallythink it was a hostage situation, did you? Why the hell would they dumpa hostage after killing the first one? Your death was supposed to be a lesson for Auren.”
He ran a hand through his hair roughly.
“I’d have killed two birds with one stone if Tyler wasn’t such a fucking imbecile,” he glared at the wolf who had lowered his gun. “You see, I’d learned long ago that trauma creates monsters. Statistically speaking, over fifty percent of serial killers experienced psychological abuse, which counts as trauma during their childhood. Auren was already sixteen. I had to dosomethingthat would set him off. Mikey wasn’t smart enough, nor was he well-rounded the way you and Auren were. But you were a lost cause, so Auren was my next best bet, and I needed to make him a monster early. I needed to destroy him to rebuild him the way I wanted. And what better way than to have him witness the death of his favorite big brother?”
Sariel’s struggling had ceased; his expression tortured. My heart broke for him, and for the little boy who’d been tangled in his father’s web of madness.
“At first, I thought it had gone well. But then the hospital called, and it was the wrong fucking son,” he growled.
Tyler huffed. “You gave us the bare minimum description. You didn’t even say it was the oldest.”
“It wasimplied, Tyler!”
“That’s why you’re working together,” Sariel whispered. “He knows your dirty little secret. He could ruin your image to the humans.”
My eyes widened. “Holy shit, he’s blackmailing you.”
Azazel frowned. “We have an agreement,” he snapped. “He was searching for a cure for the madness in fallen-blood wolves. He swore he’d seen it happen—”
“It did,” Tyler snapped. “I saw it happen with her parents.”
Silence enveloped us as I processed his words. “Whose parents?”
“Yours,” Tyler clarified. “My little brother and his blessed-blood whore.”
Maybe I was more exhausted than I imagined, because it seemed I was having auditory hallucinations. “Excuse me?”
“ Terrell and Arianna,” Tyler said by way of explanation. “Your parents.”
“You—”
