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3
THE ORIGINAL
SARIEL
Idecided that Aria had lost her mind as I stalked away from her, battling my angel with every step.
He was absolutelyfuriouswith me for leaving her on her own so often lately, but my mood was so abysmal, I knew I would end up lashing out at her— exactly like I just had.
Maybe Ifeltsorry for myself, but didn't I deserve to be upset? This whole situation had been a shitshow from the jump, and neither of us had been able to slow down long enough to really process it.
"Mr. Ambrose,” a voice suddenly called out to me. It cut through my battle of wills with the winged dickhead sharing my body, and I turned with a scowl.
"If I could have a word?" Kiyomasa, of all people, said to me.
If he was as surprised to see me as I was to see him, it didn't show. His kimono was neatly pressed as he made his way down the street towards me, hands folded in front of him. "Let's walk."
However tempting it was to say no and go about my day, I followed after him with a sigh.
He didn’t jump into whatever it was. He wanted to tell me immediately. Instead, we walked side by side, though I moved much slower with his company.
"I never had children of my own," he began as we turned a random corner, not even looking over at me as he spoke. "Not for lack of trying, either."
A soft chuckle escaped him as we paused and stared at some people milling about. "You see, I am a hybrid, Mr. Ambrose. Much like you and your sweet mate, I spent a good portion of my life in hiding."
The news didn't shock me as much as it should have, but that probably had a lot to do with all the curveballs being thrown at us lately—what was surprising was that he looked old.
"My parents are the King and Queen of the Free Kingdom."
Thatdidshock me, though. "I thought Tarragon killed all of Blossom's children."
"You're correct." He smiled, and it seemed bittersweet. "All but me. Although, I was probably the catalyst for his willingness to end all her pregnancies thereafter. While I am Blossom's biological son, my father never touched her, so I believed that Tarragon was my biological parent for the longest time."
Kiyomasa sighed, looking tired, before turning his attention to me. "The deal that was struck is unknown to me, even all these years later, but I was able to work out that I was half-demon in my first few centuries."
Centuries. It was always weird to hear the older supernatural lament their younger days, but when words like that started getting thrown around, it was almost dizzying.
"Coming from a world that had, at large, accepted me as one of their own to one where I was reviled and persecuted was a culture shock, to say the least. Anyway, when I left the Free Kingdom and finally founded the Resistance, it was always with the intent to oppose both them and the Upper Council."
"What are you getting at?" I finally asked when he just kept watching me, as if he was waiting for me to weigh in on his words.
"I consider your brother to be my son. I didn't plan it that way when I brought him under my wing, but after years of working with him, I realized I was fairly attached. So it made sense to hand over the reins of the Resistance to him when the time came."
Gesturing vaguely with one hand, he led me towards one of the nicer homes on this end of the street, hobbling up the front steps like he had not just revealed that he was an ancient half-fae, half-demon hybrid.
"Auren has done wonderful things for the movement." His door clicked shut behind us, and he wandered into the kitchen with me on his heels. I was reeling from the information overload. "He has a good heart and a strong moral compass. I could not ask for a better successor. You see, your brother cares about people like us."
Kiyomasa set a kettle on his stove, shuffling around and gathering the ingredients for tea as I stood there and watched.
"My parents loved the idea of me—powerful, easy to mold—but did not care about my struggles or hardships. When I started to age rapidly a few centuries ago, they all but washed their hands of me, content to let me wilt away even though I was their firstborn."
Memories of my childhood with Azazel came to me unbidden. It had been peaceful when I was too young to know better. Happy, even. Those feelings had made everything that came after more painful and every situation just a bit more complex.
"They'd spent nearly all my life trying to lure me back into the fold; when they stopped hounding me, I was completely alone in a world that hated me just for existing. Perhaps I took after them a bit too much because when I started this movement, we started with kids. Children like you and Aria, who would spend their whole lives afraid of being discovered and attacked for a sin they did not commit."
"Director, what—"
"What's so wrong about that, Sariel Ambrose?" His spine straightened, looking borderline accusatory as I stiffened. "Besides your issues with Auren, what is your reasoning for not wanting to aid our cause?"
